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THE  JEWISH  CHURCH. 


FROM  SAMUEL  TO  THE  CAPTIVITY 


WOEKS  OF 

^rf|ur  ypnrlgn  j?fanI(Fg, 

OiF  -WESTIvIIIiTSTEie.. 


LECTURES  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  JEWISH 

CHURCH.  Part  I. — Abraham  to  Samuel.  With  Maps  and  Plans. 

One  vol.  crown  8vo,  cloth,  new  and  cheaper  edition $2.50 

THE  SAME.  Part  II. — From  Samuel  to  the  Captivity. 

One  vol.  crown  Svo,  cloth,  new  and  cheaper  edition 2.50 

LECTURES  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  EASTERN 

CHURCH,  with  an  Introduction  on  the  Study  of  Ecclesiastical  His- 
tory. One  vol.  crown  Svo,  cloth,  new  and  cheaper  edition 2.50 

SINAI  AND  PALESTINE.  One  vol.  crown  Svo,  cloth, 

neio  and  cheaper  edition 2.50 

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HIG-HNESS  THE  PRUNTCE  OF  WALES,  during  his  Tour  in  the 
East,  in  the  Spring  of  1862.  One  vol.  12mo,  cloth 1.50 

LECTURES  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CHURCH 

OF  SCOTLAND.  Delivered  in  Edinburgh,  1872.  One  vol.  Svo,  cloth..  2.60 


Sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by  the  publishers, 

S:SIBHEE,  AEMSTEONS  & 00.,  Hev  York. 


LECTURES 


If 


ON  THE  HISTORY 


OF 


THE  JEWISH  CHURCH 


PART  II. 

FROM  SAMUEL  TO  THE  CAPTIVITY 


BY  ARTHUR  PENRHYN  STANLEY,  D.D. 

DEAN  OF  WESTMINSTER 


NEW  YORK: 

SCRIBNER,  ARMSTRONG,  AND  CO., 
1876. 


[Piiblished  by  arranqemmt  with  the  Author] 


RIVERSIDE  CAMBRIDGE: 
?^3KTED  BY  H.  O.  HOUGHTON  AND  COMRASY* 


Sc 

im 

v-h 

PREFACE. 


This  volume,  like  that  which  preceded  it,  contains 
the  substance  of  Lectures  delivered  from  the  Chair 
of  Ecclesiastical  History  in  the  University  of  Oxford. 
^ Whilst  still  disclaiming,  as  before,  any  pretensions  to 
^ critical  or  linguistic  research,  I gladly  acknowledge 
my  increased  debt  to  the  scholars  and  divines  who 
-lliave  traversed  this  ground,  — Ewald,  in  his  great  work 
on  the  “History  of  the  People  of  Israel,”  to  which  I 
■J  must  here  add  his  no  less  important  work  on  the 
Prophets ; Dean  Milman,  in  his  “ History  of  the  Jews,” 
now  republished  in  its  completer  form;  Dr.  Pusey’s 
I V “ Commentary  on  the  Minor  Prophets  ” ; the  numerous 
^ writers  on  the  Old  Testament,  in  Dr.  Smith’s  “Diction- 
^ aiy  of  the  Bible,”  — Mr.  Grove  especially,  to  whom 
^ I am  once  more  indebted  for  his  careful  revision  of 
the  text  of  this  volume,  and  for  frequent  suggestions 
■^of  which  I have  constantly  availed  myself.^  Many 

1 For  various  illustrations  of  the  Persia,  from  his  own  personal  ex- 
manners and  customs,  I must  ex-  perience  of  the  East. 

^ press  my  obligations  to  the  kindness  The  topography  of  Jerusalem, 
of  Mr.  Morier,  who  has  allowed  me  which  occupies  so  large  a space  in 
^the  use  of  a Bible,  copiously  an-  this  period  of  the  history,  demands 
^ notated  by  his  brother,  the  well-  further  notice  than  I have  given  to 
known  minister  at  the  court  of  it.  But  the  extreme  uncertainty  in 


'*81 000 


VI 


PREFACE. 


thoughts  have,  doubtless,  been  confirmed  or  origb 
nated  by  Mr.  Maurice’s  " Sermons  on  the  Prophets 
and  Kings.” 

The  general  principles  which  have  guided  the  selec 
tion  of  topics,  and  the  general  sources  from  which  the 
materials  are  drawn,  are  too  similar  to  those  which  1 
have  set  forth  in  the  Preface  to  my  former  volume  to 
need  any  additional  remark. 

A few  special  observations,  however,  are  suggested 
by  the  peculiarities  of  the  portion  of  the  history  on 
which  we  now  enter. 

1.  Although  there  still  remains  the  same  difficulty, 
which  occurs  in  the  earlier  period,  of  distinguishing 
between  the  poetical  and  the  historical  portions  of  the 
narrative,  yet  the  historical  element  here  so  far  pre- 
ponderates, and  the  mass  of  unquestionably  contem- 
porary literature  is  so  far  larger,  that  I have  ventured 
much  more  freely  than  before  to  throw  the  Lectures 
into  the  form  of  a continuous  narrative;  believing 
that  thus  best  the  Sacred  History  would  be  enabled, 
to  speak  for  itself  There  are,  doubtless,  many  pas- 
sages in  which  the  historical  facts  and  the  Oriental 
figures  are  too  closely  interwoven  to  be  at  this  dis- 
tance of  time  easily  separated.  There  are  others  which 
bring  out  more  distinctly  than  in  the  earlier  history 
the  interesting  variations  between  the  Hebrew  text 

which  — till  further  excavations  are  the  City  or  Temple,  beyond  such 
possible  — it  is  of  necessity  involved,  general  indications  as  can  be  gath* 
has  withheld  me  from  offering  any  ered  from  the  ancient  descriptions, 
detailed  plan  or  theory,  either  of 


PREFACE. 


▼ii 

which  is  the  basis  of  our  modern  versions,  and  that 
which  is  represented  by  the  Septuagint.  Others  again, 
especially  where  we  have  the  advantage  of  comparing 
the  parallel  narratives  of  the  Books  of  Kings  and 
(?f  Chronicles,  exhibit  diversities  which  cannot  be  sur- 
mounted, except  by  an  arbitrary  process  of  excision, 
w^hich  we  are  hardly  justified  in  adopting,  and  which 
would  obliterate  the  value  of  the  separate  records.  In 
chronology,  even  after  the  reign  of  Solomon,  the  same 
confusions  which  occur  in  other  ancient  histories  occur 
here  also.  Lord  Arthur  Hervey,  whose  praiseworthy 
devotion  to  this  branch  of  Biblical  study  gives  peculiar 
weight  to  his  authority,  finds  the  dates  so  unmanage- 
able as  to  suggest  to  him  the  probability  that  they 
are  added  by  another  hand.  Others,  such  as  Mr. 
Fynes  Clinton,  Mr.  Greswell,  and  Dr.  Pusey,^  adopt 
the  course  of  rejecting  as  spurious  the  indications  of 
time  which,  from  internal  evidence,  they  cannot  recon- 
cile with  what  seems  to  be  required  by  the  history. 

Still  on  the  whole  the  substantially  historical  charac- 
ter of  the  narrative  is  admitted  by  all.  Even  the  chron- 
ological uncertainties,^  considerable  as  they  are,  are 
compressed  within  comparatively  narrow  limits.  The 
constant  references  of  the  Books  of  Samuel,  Kings, 
and  Chronicles  to  records  which,  though  lost,  were 
evidently  contemporary,  furnish  a guarantee  for  the 

1 See,  for  example,  2 Kings  2 tlie  nearest  approximation, 

xxiv.  8 ; 2 Chr.  xxxvi.  9 ; Dr.  I have  affixed  the  most  important 
Pusey’s  note  on  Daniel  the  Prophet,  dates  from  Clinton’s  Fasti  Hellenict 
p.  313.  vol.  i.  Appendix,  c.  5. 


PREFACE. 


viii 

general  truthfulness  of  the  narrative,  such  as  no  othei 
ancient  history  not  itself  contemporary  can  exhibit. 
The  parallel  stream  of  Prophetic  literature  gives  a 
wholly  independent  confirmation  of  the  same  kind, 
in  some  instances  extending  even  to  incidents  which 
are  preserved  to  us  only  in  the  later  Chronicles  ^ and 
Josephus.  The  allusions  to  Jewish  history  in  the  Assyr- 
ian and  Egyptian  monuments,  — so  far  as  they  can 
be  trusted,  — and  the  undoubted  recurrences  of  the 
same  imagery  in  the  sculptures  as  that  employed  by 
the  Prophets,  are  valuable  as  illustrations  of  the  Bibli- 
cal history,  even  where  they  cannot  be  used  as  con- 
firmations of  it.^  Jewish  and  Arabian  traditions  relat- 
ing to  this  period,  if  less  striking,  are  at  least  more 
within  the  bounds  of  probability,  and  more  likely  to 
contain  some  grains  of  historical  truth  than  those 
which  relate  to  the  Patriarchal  age.  And  as  before, 
so  now,  even  when  of  unquestionably  late  origin,  they 
seem  to  be  worthy  of  notice,  as^  filling  up  the  outline 
of  the  forms  which  the  personages  and  events  of  this 
history  have  assumed  in  large  periods,  and  to  large 
masses,  of  mankind. 


1 E.  g.  in  the  earthquake  of  Uz- 
ziah’s  reign  (see  Lecture  XXXVIL), 
and  the  captivity  of  Manasseh  (see 
Lecture  XXXIX.). 

2 These  monuments  cannot  prop- 
erly be  said  to  contain  conjirma- 
fions  of  the  Jewish  history  — be- 
cause, with  very  few  exceptions, 
he  only  events  in  that  history  to 


which  they  refer  are  such  as  have 
never  been  doubted  by  any  one, 
and  therefore  are  much  more  in  a 
condition  to  give  their  weight  to 
the  confessedly  doubtful  interpreta- 
tion of  the  cuneiform  inscriptions, 
than  to  receive  any  corroboration 
from  it. 


PKEFACE. 


LX 


2.  These  are  the  materials  from  which  the  following 
Lectures  are  drawn.  It  will  be  seen  that  what  they 
profess  to  give  is  not  a commentary  on  the  sacred  text, 
but  a delineation  of  the  essential  features  of  the 
history  of  the  Jewish  Church,  during  the  second 
period^  of  its  existence.  In  so  doing,  it  has  been 
impcssible  to  suppress  the  horrors  consequent  on  the 
‘^hardness  of  heart”  which  characterized  the  Israelite 
nation,  nor  the  shortcomings^  which  disfigured  some 
of  its  greatest  heroes.  ^^Let  me  freely  speak  unto 
"you  of  the  Patriarch  David  such  is  the  spirit  in 
which  we  should  endeavor  to  handle  the  story  of  the 
founder  of  the  monarchy.  " Elijah  was  a man  of  like 
"passions  with  ourselves:”^  such  is  the  view  with 
which  we  ought  to  approach  even  the  grandest  of  the 
ancient  Prophets.  " These  all,  having  obtained  a good 
" report  through  faith,  received  not  the  promise  such 
is  the  distinction  which  we  ought  always  to  bear  in 
mind  between  the  rough  virtues  and  imperfect  knowl- 
edge of  the  Old  Dispensation,  and  the  higher  hopes 
and  graces  of  the  New. 

But  our  faith  in  the  transcendent  interest  of  the 
story,  the  general  nobleness  of  its  characters,  and  the 
splendor  of  the  truths  proclaimed  by  it,  ought  not  to 

1 For  the  three  divisions  of  the  (comp.  Luke  ix.  54-56) ; Jer.  xviii 

History,  see  Introduction  to  Vol.  I.  23  (comp.  Luke  xxiii.  34);  xx.  7 
p.  xxxii.  14  ; xxxviii.  27. 

2 The  use  of  this  word  has  been  3 ^ets  ii.  29. 

severely  condemned.  It  is  sufficient  James  v.  17. 
to  refer  to  2 Sam.  xii.  7,  13,  31 ; 5 Heb.  xi.  39. 

I Kings  xiii.  26;  2 Ejngs  i 10 


X 


PREFACE 


ailov?  of  any  fear  lest  they  should  suffer  either  from 
the  occasional  uncertainty  of  the  form  in  which  the^? 
have  been  handed  down  to  us,  or  from  a nearei 
view  of  the  crust  of  human  passion  and  error  which 
encloses  without  obscuring  the  luminous  centre  of 
spiritual  truth.  The  beauty  of  the  narrative,  and 
the  cliarm  of  its  incidents,  if  not  belonging  to  the 
highest  form  of  Inspiration,  is  yet  a gift  of  no  ordi- 
nary value,  which  perhaps  no  previous  generation 
has  been  so  well  able  to  appreciate  as  our  own. 

The  lessons  of  perennial  wisdom  which  the  history 
imparts,  even  irrespectively  of  traditional  usage,  jus- 
tify, I humbly  trust,  the  practical  applications  that  I 
have  ventured  to  draw  from  it,  and  form  the  real 
grounds  of  distinction  between  it  and  other  histories, 
as  also  between  the  essential  and  the  subordinate 
parts  of  its  own  contents.  In  the  sublime  elevation^ 
of  the  moral  and  spiritual  teaching  of  the  Psalmists 
and  Prophets,  in  the  eagerness  with  which  they  look 
out  of  themselves,  and  out  of  their  owm  time  and 

nation,  for  the  ultimate  hope  of  the  human  race — far 
more  than  in  their  minute  predictions  of  future  events 
— is  to  be  found  the  best  proof  of  their  Prophetic 
spirit.  In  the  loftiness  of  the  leading  characters 
of  the  epoch,  who  hand  on  the  truth,  each  succeed- 

1 I have  a peculiar  pleasure  in  St.  Paul’s  on  Hebrew  Prophecy  — 
referring  for  a corroboration  of  the  impressive  alike  from  its  contenta 
views  which  I had  ventured  to  ex-  and  from  the  circumstances  of  it* 

press  in  my  first  volume,  to  the  delivery, 

impressive  Sermon  of  the  Dean  of 


PREFACE. 


uig  as  the  other  fails,  with  a mingled  grace  and 
strength  which  penetrate  even  into  the  outward  form 
pf  the  poetry  or  prose  of  the  narrative  — rather  than 
in  the  marvellous  displays  of  power  which  are  found 
equally  in  the  records  of  saints  in  other  times  and 
in  other  religions  — is  the  true  sign  of  the  Supernat- 
ural, which  no  criticism  or  fear  of  criticism  can  ever 
> eliminate.  They  rise  above  the  nature”  not  onl}^ 
of  their  own  times,  but  of  their  own  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances. They  are  not  so  much  representative 
characters  as  exceptional.  Their  life  and  teaching  is 
a struggle  and  protest  against  some  of  the  deepest 
prejudices  and  passions  of  their  countrymen,  such  as 
we  find,  if  at  all,  only  in  two  or  three  of  the  most 
exalted  philosophers  and  heroes  of  other  ages.  The 
rude  ceremonial,  the  idolatrous  tendencies,  even  some 
of  the  worst  vices,  against  which  they  contended, 
were  almost  inseparably  intertwined  with  the  popular 
devotions  not  only  of  the  surrounding  nations,  but 
of  their  own  people.  ^^The  religious  world”  of  the 
Jewish  Church  is  to  them,  as  to  a Greater  than 
they,  an  unfailing  cause  of  grief,  of  surprise,  of  in- 
dignation. In  the  name  of  God  they  attack  that 
which  to  all  around  them  seems  to  be  religion.  Their 
clinging  trust  to  the  One  Supreme  source  of  spiritual 
goodness  and  truth,  with  its  boundless  consequences, 
is  the  chief  as  it  is  the  sufficient  cause  of  their 
preeminence.  Other  parts  of  their  history  may  be 
preternatural.  This  is  in  the  highest  degree  super- 


Kll 


PREFACE. 


natural,  because  this  alone  brings  them  into  direct 
communion  with  that  which  is  Divine  and  Eternal. 

3.  Closely  connected  with  this  thought  is  the  re- 
lation of  the  literature  and  history  of  the  Jewish 
Commonwealth  to  the  events  of  the  Christian  Dis- 
pensation. I may  be  allowed  to  express  by  an 
illustration  the  true  mode  of  regarding  this  question. 
In  the  gardens  of  the  Carthusian  Convent,  which  the 
Dukes  of  Burgundy  built  near  Dijon  for  the  burial- 
place  of  their  race,  is  a beautiful  monument,  which 
alone  of  that  splendid  edifice  escaped  the  ravages  of 
the  French  Be  volution.  It  consists  of  a group  of 
Prophets  and  Kings  from  the  Old  Testament,  each 
holding  in  his  hand  a scroll  of  mourning  from  his 
writings  — each  with  his  own  individual  costume,  and 
gesture,  and  look  — each  distinguished  from  each  by 
the  most  marked  peculiarities  of  age  and  character, 
absorbed  in  the  thoughts  of  his  own  time  and 
country.  But  above  these  figures  is  a circle  of 
angels,  as  like  each  to  each  as  the  human  figures 
are  unlike.  They  too,  as  each  overhangs  and  over- 
looks the  Prophet  below  him,  are  saddened  with 
grief  But  their  expression  of  sorrow  is  far  deeper 
and  more  intense  than  that  of  the  Prophets  whose 
words  they  read.  They  see  something  in  the 
Prophetic  sorrow  which  the  Prophets  themselves  see 
not;  they  are  lost  in  the  contemplation  of  the  Divine 
Passion,  of  which  the  ancient  saints  below  them  are 
but  the  unconscious  and  indirect  exponents. 

This  exquisite  mediaeval  monument,  expressing  as 


PREFACE. 


xm 


it  does  the  instinctive  feeling  at  once  of  the  truthful 
artist  and  of  the  devout  Christian,  represents  better 
than  any  words  the  sense  of  what  we  call  in  theo- 
logical language  ^Hhe  Types”  of  the  Old  Testament. 
The  heroes  and  saints  of  old  times,  not  in  Judea 
only,  — though  there  more  frequently  than  in  any 
other  country,  — are  indeed  types,”  that  is,  like- 
nesses,” in  their  sorrows  of  the  Greatest  of  all  sor- 
rows, in  their  joys  of  the  Greatest  of  all  joys,  in 
their  goodness  of  the  Greatest  of  all  goodness,  in 
their  truth  of  the  Greatest  of  all  truths.  This  deep 
inward  connection  between  the  events  of  their  own 
time  and  the  crowning  close  of  the  history  of  their 
whole  nation  — this  gradual  convergence  towards  the 
event  which,  by  general  acknowledgment,  ranks  chief 
in  the  annals  of  mankind  — is  clear  not  only  to  the 
all-searching  Eye  of  Providence,  but  also  to  the  eye 
of  any  who  look  above  the  stir  and  movement  of 
earth.  It  is  part  not  only  of  the  foreknowledge  of 
God,  but  of  the  universal  workings  of  human  nature 
and  human  history.  The  angels  see  though  man  sees 
not.  The  mind  flies  silently  upwards  from  the 
earthly  career  of  David,  or  Isaiah,  or  Ezekiel,  to  those 
vaster  and  wider  thoughts  which  they  imperfectly 
represented.  "The  rustic  murmur”  of  Jerusalem  was, 
although  they  knew  it  not,  part  of  " the  great  wave 
"that  echoes  round  the  world.”  It  is  a continuity 
recognized  by  the  Philosophy  of  History  no  less  than 
by  Theology  - — by  Hegel  even  more  closely  than  by 
A.ugustine.  But  the  sorrow,  the  joy,  the  goodness, 


SIV 


PREFACE. 


the  truth  of  those  ancient  heroes  is  notwithstanding 
entirely  their  own.  They  are  not  mere  machines 
or  pictures.  When  they  speak  of  their  trials  and 
difficulties  they  speak  of  them  as  from  their  own 
experience.  By  studying  them  with  all  the  pecu- 
liarities of  their  time,  we  arrive  at  a profounder 
view  of  the  truths  and  events  to  which  their  ex- 
pressions and  the  story  of  their  deeds  may  be  applied 
in  after  ages,  than  if  we  regard  them  as  the  organs 
of  sounds  unintelligible  to  themselves  and  with  no 
bearing  on  their  own  period.  Where  there  is  a sen- 
timent common  to  them  and  to  Christian  times,  a 
word  or  act  which  breaks  forth  into  the  distant 
future,  it  will  be  reverently  caught  up  by  those 
who  are  on  the  watch  for  it,  to  whom  it  will  speak 
words  beyond  their  words,  and  thoughts  beyond  their 
thoughts.  Did  not  our  heart  burn  within  us  while 
He  walked  \vith  us  by  the  way,  and  while  He 
opened  * to  us  the  Scriptures  ? ” But,  even  in  the 
act  of  uttering  these  sentiments,  they  still  remained 
encompassed  with  human,  Jewish,  Oriental  peculiari- 
ties, which  must  not  be  explained  away  or  softened 
down,  for  the  sake  of  producing  an  appearance  of 
uniformity  which  may  be  found  in  the  Koran,  but 
which  it  is  hopeless  to  seek  in  the  Bible,  and  which, 
if  it  were  found  there,  would  completely  destroy  the 
historical  character  of  its  contents.  To  refuse  to  see 
the  first  and  direct  application  of  their  expressions 
to  themselves,  is  like  an  unwillingness  — such  as 
some  simple  and  religious  m.inds  have  felt  — to  ac- 


PREFACE 


knowledge  the  existence,  or  to  dwell  on  the  topog- 
raphy, of  the  city  of  Jerusalem  and  the  wilderness 
of  Arabia,  because  those  localities  have  been  so  long 
associated  with  the  higher  truths  of  spiritual  religion. 

There  will  further  result  from  this  mode  of 
approaching  the  subject  the  advantage  of  a jus  ter 
appreciation  of  the  Divine  mission  to  which  the 
Prophets  and  righteous  men”  of  former  times  bore 
witness.  Kesemblance  of  mere  outward  circumstances, 
however  exact,  throws  no  light  on  the  essential 
character  of  Him  whose  life  they  are  brought  to 
illustrate ; nor  is  it  any  such  kind  of  resemblance 
which  justifies  the  relation  of  that  Life  to  the  per- 
sonal needs  of  mankind.  But  a real  resemblance  of 
moral  and  mental  qualities  or  situations,  which  can 
be  universally  felt  and  understood,  is  a direct  help 
to  feel  and  understand  in  what  consists  the  Charac- 
ter and  Person  of  Him  whom  we  are  called  upon  to 
love  and  adore,  and  in  what  consists  the  j)Ossi 
bility  of  our  approach  to  Him.  It  is  a fruitful  illustra- 
tion of  the  argument  which  pervades  the  Analogy” 
of  Bishop  Butler,  and  which  has  been  well  brought 
out  by  our  best  modern  divines, — namely,  that  ^^God 
gave  His  Son  to  the  world,  in  the  same  way  of  good- 
^^ness  as  He  afibrds  particular  persons  the  friendly 
assistance  of  their  fellow-creatures  ...  in  the  same 
^way  of  goodness,  though  in  a transcendent  and  in- 
" finitely  higher  degree.”  ^ It  is  only  from  the  com- 
munity of  spirit  which  exists  between  the  Manife^- 

1 Butler’s  Analogy , Part  II.  ch.  v.  §§  5,  7. 


X^l 


PREFACE. 


tation  of  Christ  and  the  likeness  of  Himself  in  the 
good  men  who  preceded  or  who  succeeded,  that  we 
can  speak  of  them  either  as  His  types  or  His  follow- 
ers. It  is  by  thus  speaking  of  them  that  we  shall 
best  conceive  the  work  of  Him  in  whom  in  the 
“dispensation  of  the  fulness  of  time  all  things  were 
“gathered  together  in  one.” 

Both  theirs  and  ours  Thou  art, 

As  we  and  they  are  Thine  ; 

Kings,  Prophets,  Patriarchs,  all  have  part 
Along  the  sacred  line. 

Oh  bond  of  union,  dear 

And  strong  as  is  Thy  grace; 

Saints,  parted  by  a thousand  year, 

May  there  in  heart  embrace.^ 

The  immediate  preparation  for  that  Manifestation 
in  the  period  between  the  Captivity  and  the  final 
overthrow  of  Jerusalem  and  of  the  Jewish  nation 
may  be  the  subject  of  another  volume,  if  life  and 
strength  are  granted,  amidst  the  pressure  of  other 
engagements,  to  continue  a task  begun  in  earlier 
and  less  disturbed  days. 

May  the  Students  for  whom  these  Lectures  were 
specially  intended  receive  them  as  the  memorial  of 
efforts,  however  imperfect,  (if  I may  employ  the 
words  in  which  the  plan  of  these  Lectures  was  first 
indicated,)  “so  to  delineate  the  outward  events  of 
“the  Sacred  History  as  that  they  should  come  home 
“with  new  power  to  those  who  by  familiarity  have 

1 Christian  Year^  on  “ The  Circumcision  of  Christ.” 


PREFACE. 


XVll 


"almost  ceased  to  regard  them  as  historical  truth  at 
"all:  so  to  bring  out  their  inward  spirit  that  the 
" more  complete  realization  of  their  outward  form 
"should  not  degrade,  but  exalt,  the  Faith  of  which 
"they  are  the  vehicle.’’ 

Deanery,  W estjiink  r * js 
November  2,  186* 


II 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTa 


Preface  ...  • • • • v 


THE  HOUSE  OF  SAUL. 

LECTURE  XXL 

SAUL. 

The  Family  of  Saul • . 6 

His  Call  7 

His  Personal  Appearance 10 

His  First  Victory 12 

The  Philistine  War 13 

Jonathan  15 

The  Battle  of  Michmash 17 

Character  and  Position  of  Saul  — The  First  King  ....  20 

His  Court 21 

His  Imperfect  Conversion  .......  22 

His  Opposition  to  the  Prophets  22 

His  Superstition  and  Madness 26 

His  Relations  to  David  and  to  Jonathan 27 

The  Battle  of  Mount  Gilboa 30 

The  Death  of  Saul 34 

Ishbosheth  ; his  Reign  and  Death 35 

Sacrifice  of  Saul’s  Family  , . . . • • . .36 

Mephibosheth 38 

Sympathy  for  Saul  and  his  House .39 

David’s  Lament .40 

The  Tribe  of  Benjamin  ...  .43 


XX 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


DAVID. 


LECTURE  XXU. 

THE  YOUTH  OP  DAVID. 


The  Parents  of  David  . , 

His  Birthplace  . . . 

His  Brothers  and  Nephews 
His  Personal  Appearance 
His  Shepherd  Life 
His  Minstrelsy 
His  Martial  Exploits 
The  Battle  of  Ephes-dammim 
His  Rise  in  the  Court  of  Saul 

His  Friendship  with  Jonathan 
His  Escape 
His  W anderings : 

At  the  Court  of  Achish  . 

In  the  Cave  of  Adullam 

In  the  Hold  . . . . 

In  the  Hills  of  Judah 

At  Engedi  . . . . 

Nabal  and  Abigail 

Return  to  Achish  . . . 

Effects  of  his  Wanderings 


PAOB 

49 

60 

...*••  61 

63 

.....  > 66 

65 

......  58 

69 

.....*  62 

. 63 

65 

68 

69 

69 

......  71 

. 73 

......  76 

. 77 

......  79 


LECTURE  XXin. 

THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


Reign  at  Hebron  86 

Capture  of  Jerusalem  .........  88 

Entrance  of  the  Ark 90-94 

Consecration  of  the  City , 90 

Inauguration  of  the  Name  of  Jehovah-Sabaoth  . . . .96 

Empire  of  David 99 

Its  Organization 100 

1.  Royal  Family  . . ....  100 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


XXI 


PACE 

J.  The  Army : 

(a)  The  Host 101 

(b)  The  Body-Guard 102 

(c)  The  Six  Hundred  103 

3.  Officers  of  State  . . . • . • • .104 

4.  The  Prophets  and  Priests 105 

Religious  Supremacy  of  David 106 

Jlis  Wars 107 

Philistine  War .108 

Moabite  War 109 


Ammonite,  Syrian,  and  Edomite  War  . . • . 110-112 

Siege  and  Capture  of  Rabbah 113 


LECTURE  XXIV. 

THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Uriah  and  Bathsheba 119 

The  Murder  of  Uriah 121 

The  Apologue  of  Nathan 122 

Repentance  of  David 123 

Death  of  his  Child  126 

His  Polygamy 126 

Amnon  and  Tamar «...  127,128 

Conspiracy  of  Absalom 130 

Flight  of  David 131-136 

Death  of  Ahithophel 138 

David  at  Mahanaim 139 

Death  of  Absalom 140 

The  Return .142 

Revolt  of  Sheba 144 

Murder  of  Amasa  . . • 145 

The  Census 146 

The  Plague 147 

Araunah ...  148 

The  Last  Words  of  David 150-1 53 

His  Death  and  Burial 155 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


LECTURE  XXV. 

THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVID. 


lAGK 

David’s  Character  ...  157 

Origin  of  the  Psalter  . 159 

Its  Use  in  Various  Ages  . . 162 

Causes  of  its  Universality 164 

1.  Poetical  Character 164 

2.  Diversity  of  Elements  . • • • • • . 165 

Its  Defects ,169 

Its  Excellences . 170 

1.  Personal  Experiences 170 

2.  Naturalness  172 

3.  Spiritual  Life  ,173 

Messianic  Hopes  . . , . • , • , 176 


SOLOMON. 


LECTURE  XXVI. 

THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


The  Age  of  Solomon 184 

Ills  Accession  188 

His  Visit  to  Gibeon  — and  his  Dream 190-195 

His  Judgment 196 

I.  External  Relations  of  the  Empire 197 

1.  With  Syria 198 

2.  With  Egypt  . 200 

3.  With  Arabia 201 

4.  With  Tyre . 202 

Commercial  Enterprises  . 203 

II-  Internal  Relations  of  the  Empire  .....  - 209 

Its  Peaceful  Condition  ...  . . 209 

Court  and  Camp  of  Solomon  . . . 210,  211 

His  Administration  . . . r . . 212 

Public  Works  at  Jerusalem .214 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


xxiii 


PAG  5 

The  Palace  . . . ' 214 

The  Throne  .••••••••••  216 

The  Banquets 216 

The  Stables  ....  .......217 

The  Gardens 213 

Royal  State ..220 


LECTURE  XXVII. 

THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 

The  Building  of  the  Temple  — Its  Style  .....  226,  228 

The  Colonnade 229 

The  Court 229 

The  Altar 231 

The  Porch 233 

The  Holy  Place 234 

The  Holy  of  Holies 235 

The  Dedication  ....  236 

The  Procession 237 

The  Consecration  243 

Contrast  (a)  with  the  Tabernacle 245 

(I?)  With  Herod’s  Temple  ' . 245 

(c)  With  Pagan  Temples 246 

(d)  With  Christian  Churches 247 

Its  Spiritual  Aspect 249 


LECTURE  XXVIH. 

THE  WISDOM  OF  SOLOMON. 

The  Introduction  of  Solomon’s  Wisdom , 253 

Its  Justice 254 

Its  Comprehensiveness  ....  ....  256 

Variety  of  its  Parts 258 

(1)  His  Riddles  .........  258 

Queen  of  Sheba 259 

(2)  His  Science 262 

(3)  His  Songs 264 

(4)  His  Proverbs 267 

Later  Solomonian  Books 270 


XXIV 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


rAoa 

The  Decline  of  Solomon 274 

Its  Causes : 

1.  Polygamy 275 

2.  Polytheism  . , . • , , , , . 277 

3.  Despotism , 278 

4.  Absence  of  Prophets 279 

The  End  of  Solomon  — Ecclesiastes  . • • . , . 281 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  ISRAEL. 


LECTURE  XXIX. 

THE  HOUSE  OP  JEROBOAM.  — AHIJAH  AND  IDDO 

The  Kingdom  of  Israel. 

National  Character' , , 291 

Prophetical  Character . 292 

Splendor . 295 

The  Disruption  . 801 

Jeroboam • • • 803 

Ahijah 304 

Shemaiah • • . • . 306 

Consecration  of  Dan  and  Bethel  807,  308 

Iddo .308 

The  Sin  of  Jeroboam . . 31(/ 


THE  HOUSE  OP  OMRI. 

LECTURE  XXX. 

ELIJAH. 

The  House  of  Omri 814 

Foundation  of  Samaria 315 

The  Reign  of  Ahab 316 

Rebuilding  of  Jericho 316 

Foundation  of  Jezreel 316 

Jezebel ,317 

The  Persecution .319 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


PAOR 

Elijah 321 

The  Drought  ...•••••.  827 

The  Widow  of  Zarephath  . 328 

The  Meeting  on  Carmel 332 

Vision  at  Horeb 340 

Naboth’s  Vineyard 844 

The  Curse  on  Ahab ...  347 

The  Vision  of  Micaiah 349 

The  Death  of  Ahab  . 850 


LECTURE  XXXL 

ELISHA. 

Last  Appearance  of  Elijah  on  Carmel 353 

Translation  of  Elijah 354 

Elisha 358 

Contrast  with  Elijah 359 


LECTURE  XXXII. 

JEHU. 

Gchazi 365 

The  Call  of  Jehu 865 

His  Arrival  at  Jezreel  868 

The  Death  of  Jezebel  369 

Jehonadab 871 

Massacre  at  Samaria 372 

Character  of  Jehu • . 374 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEHU. 

LECTURE  XXXIII. 

THE  8YRIAV  WARS  AND  THE  PROPHET  JONAH. 

The  Syrian  Wars. 

Damascus  ...  . 878 

^^oaoth-Gilead  , , RTf 


XXVI 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


r/.QH 

Siege  of  Samaria 381 

Elisha  the  Prophet  of  Syria  . . 382 

Jeroboam  II • • • 386 

Conquest  of  Moab 887 

Jonah 388 


LECTURE  XXXIV. 

FALL  OF  SAMARIA. 

Moral  Corruption  of  the  Kingdom  . . ...  397 

Amos ...  S99 

Physical  Calamities 400 

Rise  of  Assyria . . 401 

End  of  the  House  of  Jehu 402 

Fall  of  the  trans- Jordan  ic  Tribes .404 

Hoshea 406 

Capture  in  Samaria  407 

Hosea 409 

Exiles  in  Assyria . . 412 

Nahum 412 

Tobit ,413 

The  Samaritan  Sect 415 

The  Lessons  of  the  Samaritan  History 416 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  JUDAH. 


LECTURE  XXXV. 

THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH.* 

Characteristics  of  the  History  of  Judah 421 

External  Struggle 423 

Egyptian  Invasion  . . . . . . . . .424 

Jehoshaphat’s  Wars 427 

Internal  Struggle  • 481 

Maacah 432 

Reforms  of  As?  and  Jehosbaphat  . . • . . t 433 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


xxvu 


PAGl 

Athai.iah 434 

Revolution  of  Jeholada  . . • 437 

Coronation  of  Joash  ...438 

His  Reforms . .441 

Death  of  Jehoiada 443 

Murder  of  Zechariah 444 

Death  of  Joash  ..........  446 


LECTURE  XXXVI. 

THE  JEWISH  PRIESTHOOD. 


The  Name  of  the  Priesthood  449 

Its  Origin 449 

Connection  with  the  Tribe  of  Levi 450 

Military  Character 450 

Sacrificial  System .454 

Representative  Functions 458 

Subordinate  Duties  of  Instruction 460 

The  Book  of  Chronicles 461 

Oracular  Responses 462^ 

Benedictions 463^ 

IP^tory  of  the  Office 464 

Connection  with  the  General  Condition  of  Society  . . . 465 

Improvements  by  David  and  Solomon 46  7 

Its  Growth  in  the  Kingdom  of  Judah,  and  after  the  Captivity  . 468 

Its  Inferior  Place 469 

Its  Importance 471 

Christian  Illustrations  drawn  from  it 473: 


LECTURE  XXVII. 

THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH. 


Prosperity  of  Amazlah 479 

Uzziah 489 

Jotham . 481 

Calamities  . . 482 

Locusts ,482 

The  Great  Fast 483 

Earthquake 485 

ilrowth  of  Priesthood 487 


xxvm 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


PAGB 

The  Nobles • • . , 487 

The  Prophets . 489 

Joel 

Amos , 491 

Zechariah 

Micah 

Isaiah 494 

His  Call 

And  Mission 502 


LECTURE  XXXVIII. 

HEZEKIAH. 


Ahaz 505 

Isaiah’s  Prediction  of  Immanuel 508 

Hezekiah 

His  Conversion 

His  Reforms — Passover 

Destruction  of  High  Places 515 

And  of  the  Brazen  Serpent  .516 

Invasion  of  Sennacherib , . 517 

Submission  of  Hezekiah . 522 

His  Resistance 522 

Encouragement  of  Isaiah , 525 

Fall  of  Sennacherib 529 

Sickness  of  Hezekiah ,538 

Recovery 537 

Babylonian  Embassy 638 

Death  of  Hezekiah  539 


LECTURE  XXXIX. 

MANASSEII  AND  JOSIAH. 


Manasseh .541 

Martyrdom  of  Isaiah 544 

Repentance  of  Manasseh  ....  ...  546 

Habakkuk . . 547 

Jo»IAH , . 550 

Discovery  of  the  Book  of  the  Law  ....  . . 551 

Deuteronomy  ....  . . . 552 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


XXIX 


PAOX 


Reformation  . ....  . . 553 

Zephaniah 556 

The  Invasion  of  the  Scythians 557 

The  Invasion  of  Necho 660 

Death  of  Josiah 561 


LECTURE  XL. 

JEREMIAH  AND  THE  FALL  OP  JERUSALEM. 


Importance  of  the  Fall  of  Jerusalem 567 

Party  of  the  Heathen  Princes 568 

Party  of  the  Priests  and  Prophets . 569 

Party  of  Jeremiah 670 

Jeremiah. 

His  Solitude 671 

His  Doctrines . 572 

His  Character .575 

His  Griefs  . . . . . . . . . • • 577 

His  Spiritual  Teaching  . . . . • • . . .578 

Jehoahaz 582 

Jehoiakim  . 583 

Urijah  ............  684 

Jeremiah  in  the  Temple 584 

Battle  of  Carchemish 586 

Policy  of  Jeremiah 587 

His  Warnings 589 

Death  of  Jehoiakim 593 

Jehoiachin 594 

His  Fall 595 

Zedekiah 598 

Last  Struggle  of  Jeremiah 599 

The  Siege ....  605 

The  Assault  608 

Flight  and  Exile  of  Zedekiah 609 

Destruction  of  the  City 611 

Lamentations  of  Jeremiah 615 

Gedaliah ...616 

End  of  Jeremiah 620 

Ezekiel  ...» . . 622 

His  Prophecies  to  the  Exiles  ....  .625 

His  Doctrine  . , 626 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


PAG! 


Dirge  over  tlie  Nations  , , . . • • • • 630 

His  Kevlval • .633 

The  Second  Portion  of  Isaiah 637 

Conclusion 643 

Note  A.  On  Isaiah  xl. — Ixvi 645 

Note  B.  On  the  Authorship  of  the  Books  of  the  Old  Testament  647 


THE  HOUSE  OF  SAUL. 


SPECIAL  AUTHORITIES  FOR  THIS  PERIOD. 


L 1 Sam.  ix.  1 — 2 Sam.  iv.  12;  ix. ; xvi.  1 — 14;  xix.  16 — 30;  xxi.  1— « 
14;  1 Kings  ii.  8,  9;  36 — 46  ; 1 Chron.  viii.  33 — 40;  ix.  35;  x.  14 
(Hebrew  and  LXX.). 

2.  Jewish  Traditions : in  Josephus,  Ant.  vi.  4 — vii.  2,  § 1 ; vii.  5,  § 5 ; 9,  § 3, 
4;  11,  § 3;  viii.  1,  §5:  in  Otho’s  Lexicon  Rahhinico  philologicum^ 
“ Saul : ” and  in  the  notes  of  Meyer  to  the  Seder  Olam. 

8.  Mussulman  Traditions : in  the  Koran  (ii.  247 — 252);  and  in  D’Herbelot'i 
Bibliotheque  Orientale^  “ Thalout  ben  Kissai.” 


PEDIGREE  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  SAUL. 

Aphiah.  (1  Sam.  ix.  1.) 

Bechorath. 

Zeror.  (LXX.  Jaord.) 


I g 

^ -A ■*-i  «^*3  • ^ 


§>g 

•-g-S  S ^ _ 

I « S o ^ fl  e;5 

8 S 

^cc'2  fl5^*S  2 cj  g a ® 

•;-gga|rf';.S|K 

S S'*-,  g s ® § 

! &*;  s 2 C-=  2 2J 

.=  g cS  S5 

ca  ® ®_'ja  •"  ; — . 

.aa)a>u,;^«aij;  j3 
% 0)  ftS^  p ils'-P’p  S-^ 


a 

1 


2i5 

•^c-a 


-•s 

s: 


:z  i4 


_•?  s 

.o  x> 

•c- 

.S  o-Q 


Bocheru.  lahmael.  Sheariah.  Oba^ah.  Haian.  Ulam.  Jehush.  Ellphelet. 

160  descendaatB. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  SAUL. 


LECTURE  XXI. 

SAUL. 

Samuel  is  the  chief  figure  of  the  transitional  period 
which  opens  the  history  of  the  Monarchy.^  But  there 
is  another,  on  whom  the  character  of  the  epoch  is  im- 
pressed still  more  strongly,—  who  belongs  to  this  period 
especially,  and  could  belong  to  no  other. 

Saul  is  the  first  King  of  Israel.  In  him  that  new  and 
strange  idea  became  impersonated.  In  him  we  feel  that 
we  have  made  a marked  advance  in  the  history,  — from 
the  patriarchal  and  nomadic  state,  which  concerns  us 
mainly  by  its  contrast  with  our  own,  to  that  fixed  and 
settled  state  which  has  more  or  less  pervaded  the  whole 
condition  of  the  Church  ever  since. 

But,  although  in  outward  form  Saul  belonged  to  the 
new  epoch,  although  even  in  spirit  he  from  time  to  time 
threw  himself  into  it,  yet  on  the  whole  he  is  a product 
of  the  earlier  condition.  Whilst  Samuel’s  existence 
comprehends  and  overlaps  both  periods  in  the  calmness 
of  a higher  elevation,  the  career  of  Saul  derives  its 
peculiar  interest  from  the  fact  that  it  is  the  eddy  in 
which  both  streams  converge.  In  that  vortex  he  strug- 
gles— the  centre  of  events  and  persons  greater  than 
himself;  and  in  that  struggle  he  is  borne  down,  and 
I See  Lecture  XVIII. 


0 EAKLY  LIFE  OF  SAUL.  Lect.  XXI 

lost.  It  is  this  pathetic  interest  which  has  more  than 
once  suggested  the  story  of  Saul  as  a subject  for  the 
modern  drama,  and  which  it  is  now  proposed  to  draw  out 
of  the  well-known  incidents  of  his  life.  He  is,  we  may 
say,  the  first  character  of  the  Jewish  history  which  we 
are  able  to  trace  out  in  any  minuteness  of  detail.  He 
is  the  first  in  regard  to  whom  we  can  make  out  that 
whole  connection  of  a large  family,  father,  uncle,  cousin, 
sons,  grandsons,  which,  as  a modern  historian^  well 
observes,  is  so  important  in  making  us  feel  that  we 
have  acquired  a real  acquaintance  with  any  personage 
of  past  times. 

From  the  household  of  Abiel  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin 
The  family  fwo  sons  Were  born,  related  to  each  other 
of  Saul.  either  as  cousins,  or  as  uncle  and  nephew.^ 
The  elder  was  Abner,  the  younger  was  Saul. 

It  is  uncertain  in  what  precise  spot  of  the  territory 
of  that  fierce  tribe  the  original  seat  of  the  family  lay. 
It  may  have  been  the  conical  eminence  amongst  its 
central  hills,  known  from  its  subsequent  connection 
with  him  as  Gibeah-of-Saul.  It  was  more  probably  the 
village  of  Zelah,  on  its  extreme  southern  frontier,  in 
which  was  the  ancestral  burial-place.^  Although  the 
family  itself  was  of  small  importance,  Kish,  the  son  or 
grandson  of  Abiel,  was  regarded  as  a powerful  and 
wealthy  chief ; and  it  is  in  connection  with  the  deter- 
mination to  recover  his  lost  property  that  his  son  Saul 
first  appears  before  us. 

A drove  of  asses,  still  the  cherished  animal  of  the 
Israelite  chiefs,^  had  gone  astray  on  the  mountains.  In 
search  of  them,  — by  pathways  of  which  every  stage  is 
mentioned,  as  if  to  mark  the  importance  of  the  journey, 


1 Palgrave’s  Normandy. 

2 See  the  Pedigree  on  p.  4. 


3 2 Sam.  xxi.  14. 

^ See  Lecture  IV. 


PALESTINE  AFTER  THE  CONQUEST. 


^//*/  IS-  at }lt^£UjTi  {^ ) 


O ‘9jSi» 


,s5? 


No^li 


-'■'•'■"Sv 


L KamottC 


^8h 


Tlhiuat 


Cancuinde  Towns 

IsrtuUte  . 

-PMhstine  n 


Jted 

Blach 

Great. . 


35  j;.Gr 


TftfMajfltiKsaipfFt.Hf«l’urh  CoScPdrkfHitfX.Y 


PALESTINE  AFTER  THE  CONQUEST. 


T/ic  Major  J Knapp  Ep^,Mf§  5 iirh  Co  E6  Park  Place  N.Y. 


Lect.  XXL 


EAKLY  LIFE  OF  SAUL 


7 


but  which  have  not  yet  been  identified/ — Saul  wandered 
at  his  father’s  bidding,  accompanied  by  a trustworthy 
servant,^  traditionally  believed  to  have  been  Doeg  the 
Edomite,  who  acted  as  guide  and  guardian  of  the  young 
man.  After  a three  days’  circuit  they  arrived  at  the 
foot  of  a hill  surmounted  by  a town,"^  when  Saul  pro- 
posed to  return  home,  but  was  deterred  by  the  advice 
of  the  servant,  who  suggested  that  before  doing  so  they 
should  consult  a man  of  God,”  a seer,”  as  to  the  fate 
of  the  asses,  securing  his  oracle  by  a present  {haJchsJiish) 
of  a quarter  of  a silver  shekel.  They  were  instructed 
by  the  maidens  at  the  well  outside  the  city  to  catch  the 
seer  as  he  came  out  on  his  way  to  a sacred  eminence, 
where  a sacrificial  feast  was  waiting  for  his  benediction. 
At  the  gate  they  met  the  seer  for  the  first  time.  It  was 
Samuel.  A Divine  intimation  had  indicated  to  him  the 
approach  and  the  future  destiny  of  the  youthful  Ben- 
jamite.  Surprised  at  his  language,  but  still  The  can  of 
obeying  his  call,  they  ascended  to  the  high 
place,  and  in  the  inn  or  ^ caravanserai  at  the  top  found 
thirty  or  seventy  ® guests  assembled,  amongst  whom 
they  took  the  chief  seats.  In  anticipation  of  some  dis- 
tinguished stranger,  Samuel  had  bade  the  cook  reserve 
a boiled  shoulder,  from  which  Saul,  as  the  chief  guest, 
was  bidden  to  tear  off  the  first  morsel.®  They  then 
descended  to  the  city,  and  a bed  was  prepared  for  Saul 
on  the  house-top.  At  daybreak  Samuel  roused  him. 
They  descended  again  to  the  skirts  of  the  town,  and 

1 See  Sinai  and  Palestine,  Ch.  IV.  whole  journey  of  Saul.  See  Lecture 

note  1.  XVIII.  p.  454. 

2 The  word  is  na’ar,  “ servant,”  not  ^ Td  KaTuXvfia,  LXX.,  ix.  27. 

*ebed,  “ slave.”  5 LXX. ; and  Joseph.  Ant.  vi.  4, 

3 1 Sam.  ix.  11-13.  The  situation  § 1. 

of  the  town  is  wrapt  in  the  same  geo-  6 LXX.,  ix.  22-24. 
graphical  obscurity  that  tracks  the 


8 


EARLY  LITE  OF  SAUL. 


Lbct.  XXI 


there  (the  servant  having  left  them)  Samuel  poured 
over  Saul’s  head  the  consecrated  oil,  and  with  a kiss  of 
salutation  announced  to  him  that  he  was  to  be  the  ruler 
and  deliverer  of  the  nation.^  From  that  moment,  a 
fresh  life  dawned  upon  him.  Under  the  outward  garb 
of  his  domestic  vocation,  the  new  destiny  had  been 
thrust  upon  him.  The  trivial  forms  of  an  antiquated 
phase  of  religion  had  been  the  means  of  introducing 
him  to  the  Prophet  of  the  Future.  Each  stage  of  his 
returning,  as  of  his  outgoing  route,  is  marked  with  the 
utmost  exactness,  and  at  each  stage  he  meets  the  inci- 
dents which,  according  to  Samuel’s  prediction,  were  to 
mark  his  coming  fortunes.^  By  the  sepulchre  of  his 
mighty  ancestress  — known  then,  and  known  still  as 
Bachel’s  tomb  — he  met  two  men,^  who  announced  to 
him  the  recovery  of  the  asses.  There  his  lower  cares 
were  to  cease.  By  a venerable  oak  — distinguished  by 
the  name  not  elsewhere  given,  the  oak  ^ of  Tabor  ” — 
he  met  three  men  carrying  gifts  of  kids  and  bread,  and 
a skin  of  wine,  as  an  offering  to  Bethel.  There,  as  if  to 
indicate  his  new  dignity,  two  of  the  loaves  were  offered 
to  him.  By  ^Hhe  hill  of  God”  (whatever  may  be  the 
precise  spot  indicated,  — seemingly  close  to  his  own 
home)  he  met  a chain”  of  prophets  descending  with 
musical  instruments.  There  he  caught  the  inspiration 
from  them,  as  the  sign  of  a grander,  loftier  life  than  he 
had  ever  before  conceived.® 

This  is  what  may  be  called  the  private,  inner  view  of 
his  call.  There  was  yet  another  outer  call,  which  is 
related  independently.  An  assembly  was  convened  by 
Samuel  at  Mizpeh,  and  lots  (so  often  practised  at  that 

^ LXX.,  ibid.  25-x.  1.  * Mistranslated  in  A.  V “ plain.’* 

2 1 Sam.  X.  2-6,  9,  10.  ® See  Ewald,  iii.  31. 

3 At  Zelzab,  or  (LXX.)  “leaping 
for  joy." 


Lect.  XXI. 


EARLY  LIFE  OF  SAUL. 


9 


time)  were  cast  to  find  the  tribe  and  the  family  whi(jh 
was  to  produce  the  king.  Saul  was  named,  and  found 
hid  in  the  circle  of  baggage  which  surrounded  the 
encampment.^  His  stature  at  once  conciliated  the  pub- 
lic feeling,  and  for  the  first  time  the  shout  was  raised, 
afterwards  so  often  repeated  down  to  modern  times. 
Long  live  the  King ! ” ^ The  Monarchy,  with  that  con- 
flict of  tendencies,  of  which  the  mind  of  Samuel  is  the 
best  reflex,®  was  established  in  the  person  of  the  young 
Prophet,  whom  he  had  thus  called  to  this  perilous  emi- 
nence. 

Up  to  this  point  Saul  had  been  only  the  shy  and 
retiring  youth  of  the  family.  He  is  employed  in  the 
common  work  of  the  farm.  His  father,  when  he  delays 
his  return,  mourns  for  him,  as  having  lost  his  way.^  He 
hangs  on  the  servant  for  directions  as  to  what  he  shall 
do,  which  he  would  not  have  known  himself^  At  every 
step  of  Samuel’s  revelations  he  is  taken  by  surprise. 
Am  not  I a Benjamite  ? of  the  smallest  of  the  tribes 
of  Israel  ? and  my  family  the  least  of  all  the  families 
^^of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin?  wherefore  then  speakest 
thou  so  to  me  ? ” ® He  turns  his  huge  shoulder  ^ on 
Samuel,  apparently  still  unconscious  of  what  awaits  him. 
The  last  thing  which  those  that  knew  him  in  former 
days  can  expect  is,  that  Saul  should  be  among  the 
Prophets.®  Long  afterwards  the  memorial  of  this  un- 
aptness for  high  aspirations  remained  enshrined  in  the 
national  proverbs.  Even  after  the  change  had  come 
upon  him,  he  still  shrunk  from  the  destiny  which  was 
opening  before  him.  Tell  me,  I pray  thee,  what  Sam- 


1 1 Sam.  X.  17-22. 

2 Ibid.  23,  24  (Heb.). 

3 See  Lecture  XVIII. 
1 Sam.  ix.  5 ; x.  2. 


5 Ibid.  ix.  7-10. 

6 Ibid.  21. 

7 Ibid.  X.  9;  A.  V.  “back.” 

8 Ibid.  X.  11,  12. 


10  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  AGE  OF  THE  JUDGES.  Lect.  XXI 


^ iiel  said  unto  thee.  And  Saul  said  unto  his  uncle,  He 
told  us  plainly  that  the  asses  were  found.  But  of  the 
‘^matter  of  the  kingdom,  whereof  Samuel  spake,  he  told 
him  not.”  ^ On  the  day  of  his  election  he  was  nowhere 
to  be  found,  and  he  was  as  though  he  were  deaf.^ 
Some  there  were,  who  even  after  his  appointment  still 
said,  “ How  shall  this  man  save  us  ?”  ‘^and  they  brought 
^^him  no  presents.”^  And  he  shrank  back  into  private 
life,  and  was  in  his  fields,  and  with  his  yoke  of  oxen.^ 
But  there  was  one  distinction  which  marked  out  Saul 
The  appear-  futuro  offico.  ^‘Tho  dosirc  of  all  Israel” 

was  already,  unconsciously,  ^^on  him  and  on 
his  father’s  house.”  ® He  had  the  one  gift  by  which  in 
that  primitive  time  a man  seemed  to  be  worthy  of  rule. 
He  was  goodly,” — ^Hhere  was  not  among  the  children 
of  Israel  a goodlier  person  than  he,”  ^ from  his 
shoulders  and  upward  he  towered  above  all  the  peo- 
pie.”  When  he  stood  among  the  people,  Samuel  could 
say  of  him,  See  ye  him,  look  at  him  whom  the  Lord 
hath  chosen,  that  there  is  none  like  him  among  all  the 
people.”^  It  is  as  in  the  days  of  the  Judges,  as  in 
the  Homeric  days  of  Greece.  Agamemnon,  hke  Saul, 
is  head  and  shoulders  taller  than  the  people.®  Like 
Saul,  too,  he  has  that  peculiar  air  and  dignity  expressed 
by  the  Hebrew  word  which  we  translate  ^^good”  or 
goodly.”  This  is  the  ground  of  the  epithet  which 
became  fixed  as  part  of  his  name, — ^^Saul  the  chosen^* 
the  chosen  of  the  Lord.”  * 

In  the  Mussulman  traditions  this  is  the  only  trait  of 


1 1 Sam.  X.  16. 

2 Ibid.  21,  22;  27  (Ileb.). 

3 Ibid.  27. 

4 Ibid.  xi.  5,  7. 

5 Ibid.  ix.  20. 

6 Ibid.  ix.  2. 


7 Ibid.  X.  24. 

® Compare  the  description  and  re- 
marks in  Gladstone’s  Homer,  vol.  iii 
404. 

® 2 Sam.  xxi.  6. 


Lzct.  XXL  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  AGE  OF  THE  JUDGES.  1 1 

Saul  which  is  preserved.  His  name  has  there  been 
almost  lost, — he  is  known  only  as  Thalut,  ^Hhe  tall 
one.”  ^ In  the  Hebrew  songs  of  his  own  time  he  was 
known  by  a more  endearing  but  not  less  expressive 
indication  of  the  same  grace.  His  stately,  towering 
form,  standing  under  the  pomegranate  tree  above  the 
precipice  of  Migron,^  or  on  the  pointed  crags  of  Mich- 
mash,  or  the  rocks  of  En-gedi,  claimed  for  him  the 
title  of  the  wild  roe,  the  gazelle,”  perched  aloft,  the 
pride  and  glory  of  Israel.”  ^ Against  the  giant  Philis- 
tines a giant  king  was  needed.  The  time  for  the  little 
stripling  of  the  house  of  Jesse  was  dose  at  hand,  but 
was  not  yet  come.  Saul  and  Jonathan,  swifter  than 
‘^eagles  and  stronger  than  lions,”  ^ still  seemed  the  fittest 
champions  of  Israel.  ^AVhen  Saul  saw  any  strong  man 
or  any  valiant  man,  he  took  him  unto  him.”  ^ He,  in 
his  gigantic  panoply,  that  would  fit  none  but  himself,^ 
with  the  spear  that  he  had  in  his  hand,  of  the  same 
form  and  fashion  as  the  spear  of  Goliath,  was  a host 
in  himself. 

And  when  we  look  at  the  state  of  Israel  at  the  time, 
we  find  that  we  are  still  in  the  condition  which  would 
most  justify  such  a choice.  His  residence,  like  that  of 
the  ancient  Judges,  is  still  at  the  seat  of  the  family. 
That  beacon-like  cone,  conspicuous  amongst  the  uplands 
of  Benjamin,  then  and  still  known  by  the  name  of  ^Hhe 
Hill  ” [gibeah),  had  been  selected  apparently  by  his 
ancestor  JehieU  for  the  foundation  of  one  of  the  chief 

1 D’Herbelot,  Thalout  hen  Kissal.  ® 1 Sam.  xiv.  52. 

2 1 Sam.  xiv.  2.  6 Ibid.  xvii.  39. 

3 2 Sam.  i.  19,  the  word  translated  7 When  Abiel,  or  Jehiel  (1  Chr. 

“beauty,”  but  the  same  term  {tsebi)  viii.  29,  ix.  35),  is  called  the  “ fathei 
in  2 Sam.  ii.  18,  and  elsewhere,  is  of  Gibeon,”  it  probably  means  fouudei 
translated  “ roe.”  of  Gibeah. 

*•  2 Sam.  i.  23. 


12  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  AGE  OF  THE  JUDGES.  LBcr.  XXI 

cities  in  Benjamin.  There  Saul  had  ^^his  house,”  and 
his  name  superseded  the  more  ancient  title  of  the  city 
as  derived  from  the  tribe.^  And  there,  king  as  he  was, 
we  might  fancy  ourselves  still  in  the  days  of  Shamgar 
or  of  Gideon,  when  we  see  him  following  his  herd  of 
oxen  in  the  field,  and  driving  them  home  at  the  close 
of  day  up  the  steep  ascent  of  the  city. 

It  was  on  one  of  these  evening  returns  that  his  ca- 
reer received  the  next  sharp  stimulus  which  drove  him 
Relief  of  on  to  his  destined  work.  A loud  wail,  such  as 

Jabesh-  . . i • t n 

Gibeah.  gQcs  Up  lu  an  Jtastern  city  at  the  tidings  of 
some  great  calamity,  strikes  his  ear.  He  said,  ^AYhat 
aileth  the  people  that  they  weep  ? ” They  told  him 
the  news  that  had  reached  them  from  their  kinsmen 
beyond  the  Jordan.  The  work  which  Jephthah^  had 
wrought  in  that  wild  region  had  to  be  done  over  again. 
Ammon  was  advancing,  and  the  first  victims  were  the 
inhabitants  of  Jabesh,  connected  by  the  romantic  ad- 
venture of  the  previous  generation  with  the  tribe  ^ of 
Benjamin.  This  one  spark  of  outraged  family  feeling 
was  needed  to  awaken  the  dormant  spirit  of  the  slug- 
gish giant.  He  was  a true  Benjamite  from  first  to  last. 

The  Spirit  of  God  ^ came  upon  him,”  as  on  Samson. 
His  shy  retiring  nature  vanished.  His  anger  flamed 
out,  and  he  took  two  oxen  from  the  herd  that  he  was 
driving,  and  (here  again,  in  accordance  with  the  like 
expedient  in  that  earlier  time,  only  in  a somewhat 
gentler  form)  he  hewed  them  in  pieces,  and  sent  their 
bones  through  the  country  with  the  significant  warn- 
ing, Whosoever  cometh  not  after  Saul,  and  after 


1 Formerly  “ Gibeah  of  Benjamin,’^  2 gee  Lecture  XVI. 
henceforth  “ Gibeah  of  Saul,”  down  ^ Judg.  xx.  See  Lecture  XIII. 

to  the  time  of  Josephus  {B.  J.  v.  2,  ^ The  same  word  in  1 Sam.  x.  10. 

§ 1).  xi.  6,  and  iu  Judg.  xiv.  6,  19  ; xv.  14. 


Lect.  XXL  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  AGE  OF  THE  JUDGES  13 

Samuel,  so  shall  it  be  done  unto  his  oxen  ” An  awe 
fell  upon  the  people : they  rose  as  one  man.  In  one 
day  they  crossed  the  Jordan.  Jabesh  was  res-  Ti.e  first 
cued.  It  was  the  deliverance  of  his  own  tribe 
which  thus  at  once  seated  him  on  the  throne  securely. 
The  East  of  the  Jordan  was  regarded  as  specially  the 
conquest  of  Saul.  The  people  of  Jabesh  never  forgot 
their  debt  of  gratitude.  The  house  of  Saul  were  safe 
there  when  their  cause  was  ruined  everywhere  else. 

This  was  his  first  great  victory.  The  monarchy  was 
inaugurated  afresh.^  But  he  still  so  far  resembles  the 
earlier  Judges  as  to  be  virtually  king  only  within  his 
own  tribe.  Almost  all  his  exploits  are  confined  to  this 
immediate  neighborhood.  In  that  neighborhood  the 
Philistines  are  still  in  the  ascendant,  as  in  the  days  of 
Samson  and  Eli.  Sanctuaries  of  Dagon  are  found,  far 
away  from  the  sea-coast,  up  to  the  very  verge  Phiiis- 
of  the  Jordan  valley.^  It  had  become  a Phil- 
istine  country,  almost  as  much  as  Spain  had  in  the 
ninth  century  become  a Mussulman  country.  As  there, 
the  Arabic  names  and  Arabic  architecture  reveal  the 
existence  of  the  intruding  race  up  to  the  very  frontier 
of  Biscay  and  the  Asturias,  so  in  the  very  heart  of 
Palestine,  we  stumble  on  the  traces  of  the  Philistine. 
At  Gibeah  or  at  Ramah,  close  by  one  of  the  Prophetic 
schools,  is  a garrison  or  exacting  officer  of  the  Philis- 
tines. At  Michmash  is  another ; at  Geba  is  another. 
At  any  harvest,  am  incursion  of  the  Philistines,^  with 
their  animals  to  carry  off  the  ripe  corn,  was  a regular 
event,  to  be  constantly  expected.  The  people  are  de- 
pressed to  the  same  point  as  before  the  time  of  Debo- 

^ 1 Sam.  xi.  1-15.  Bui  in  xii.  12,  2 See  the  map,  Palestine  after  ikt 

this  is  described  as  preceding  the  elec-  Conquest 
tion  of  Saul.  3 i Sam.  xxiii.  11. 


14  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  AGE  OF  THE  JUDGES.  Lbct.  XXI 


rah,  when  there  was  not  a shield  or  spear  seen  among 
forty  thousand  in  Israel.”  “ There  was  no  smith  found 
throughout  all  the  land  of  Israel : for  the  Philistines 
said,  Lest  the  Israelites  make  themselves  swords  and 
spears.  But  aU  the  Israelites  went  down  to  the  Philis- 
tines,  to  sharpen  every  one  his  share,  and  his  coulter, 
"and  his  ax,  and  his  mattock.”^  Saul  and  Jonathan 
alone  had  arms.  The  complete  panoply^  of  the  Philis- 
tine giant  was  a marvel  to  the  unarmed  Israelites. 

As  in  the  days  of  the  Midianite  invasion,  the  Israel- 
ites vanished  from  before  their  enemies  into  the  caves 
and  pits  in  which  the  limestone  rocks  abound.^  " Behold 
" the  Hebrews  come  out  of  the  holes  where  they  have 
" hid  themselves,”  is  the  exclamation  of  the  Philistines, 
as  ^they  saw  any  adventurous  warriors  creeping  out  of 
their  lurking-places.^  The  whole  nation  was  pushed 
eastward.  The  monarchy  was  like  a wind-driven  tree. 
The  sharp  blast  from  Philistia  blew  it  awry.  The  " He- 
" brews  ” (so  they  are  usually  ^ called  by  their  Philistine 
conquerors)  are  said,  as  if  in  allusion  to  their  repassing 
their  ancient  boundary,  to  have  passed^  over  Jordan  to 
"the  land  of  Gad  and  Gilead.”  The  sanctuaries  long 
frequented  in  the  centre  of  the  country.  Bethel,  and 
Mizpeh,  and  Shiloh,  were  deserted,  and  the  King  had  to 
be  inaugurated,  and  the  thanksgivings  after  the  victories 
had  to  be  celebrated,  in  the  first  ground  that  had  been 
won  by  Joshua  in  the  very  outskirts  of  Palestine  — at 
GilgaH  in  the  valley  of  the  Jordan.  In  the  midst  of 
such  a renewal  of  the  disturbed  days  of  old,  Saul  was' 

1 1 Sam.  xili.  20  ; Judges  v.  8.  ® Ibid.  xiii.  3,  7.  See  Lecture  J. 

2 1 Sam.  xvii.  4.  p.  10. 

3 Ibid.  xiil.  6.  See  Lecture  XV.  ^ See  1 Sam.  x.  8,  xi.  14,  xiii.  4,  7 

4 Ibid.  xiv.  11.  XV.  4 (LXX.),  12. 

5 Ibid.  iv.  6,‘  9,  xiii.  19,  xiv.  11, 
cxix.  3. 


Lect.  XXL  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  AGE  OF  THE  JUDGES.  15 

exactly  what  an  ancient  Judge  would  have  been.  As 
in  each  instance  they  were  called  up  from  the  tribes 
especially  in  danger  — as  Barak  was  raised  up  to  defend 
the  tribe  of  Naphthali  from  Jabin,  and  Gideon  to  defend* 
the  tribe  of  Manasseh  against  Midian,  so  Saul  of  the 
tribe  of  Benjamin  was  the  natural  champion  of  his 
country,  now  that  the  heights  of  his  own  tribe  — Gibeah, 
and  Geba,  and  Ramah — and  the  passes  of  his  own  tribe — 
Beth-horon  and  Michmash  — were  occupied  by  the  hos- 
tile garrisons.  We  see  him  leaning  on  his  gigantic  spear, 
whether  it  be  on  the  summit  of  the  rock  Rimmon,  to 
which  the  remnant  of  his  tribe  had  once  fled  before,  or 
under  the  tamarisk  of  Ramah,^  as  Deborah  had  of  old 
judged  Israel  under  the  palm-tree  in  Bethel,  or  on  the 
heights  of  Gibeah.  There  he  stood  with  his  small  band, 
his  faithful  six  hundred,  and  as  he  wept  aloud  ^ over  the 
misfortunes  of  his  country  and  of  his  tribe,  another 
voice  swelled  the  wild  indignant  lament  — the  voice  of 
Jonathan  his  son. 

At  this  point  we  turn  aside  to  the  noble  figure  which 
henceforth  appears  by  the  side  of  Saul.  Like 

o 1 T 1 1 T Jonathan. 

Saul,  Jonathan  belongs  to  the  earlier  age;  but 
is  one  of  its  finest  specimens.  He  had,  in  a sudden  act 
of  youthful  daring,  as  when  Gideon’s  brothers  had  risen 
against  the  Midianites  on  Tabor,  given  the  signal  for  a 
general  revolt,  by  attacking  and  slaying  ^ the  Philistine 
officer  stationed  close  to  the  point  where  his  own  posi- 
tion was  fixed.  The  invasion  which  followed  was  more 
crushing  than  ever;  and  from  this,  as  Jonathan  had 
been  the  first  to  provoke  it,  so  he  was  the  first  to  deliver 
his  people.  He  determined  to  undertake  the  whole  risk 

1 1 Sam.  xxii.  6.  3 Ibid.  xiii.  3, 4 (LXX.  Ewald,  iii 

2 Ibid.  xiii.  16  (LXX.  and  Jos.).  41). 


16  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  AGE  OF  THE  JUDGES.  Lect.  XXI 

himself.  ^^The  day”^ — the  day  fixed  by  him  for  his 
enterprise  approached.  He  had  communicated  it  to 
none  except  the  youth,  whom,  like  all  the  chiefs  of  that 
'time,- — Gideon,  Saul,  David,  Joab,  — he  retained  as  his 
armor-bearer.  The  Philistine  garrison  was  intrenched 
above  the  precipitous  pass  of  Michmash,  that  forms  so 
marked  a feature  in  the  hills  of  Benjamin,  between  the 
two  steep  crags,  whose  sharpness  has  been  long  since 
worn  away,  but  which  then  presented  the  appearance 
of  two  huge  teeth  ^ projecting  from  the  jaws  of  the 
ravine.  The  words  of  Jonathan  are  few,  but  they 
breathe  the  peculiar  spirit  of  the  ancient  Israelite  war- 
rior, Come  and  let  us  go  over,”  that  is,  cross  the  deep 
chasm,  to  the  garrison  of  the  Philistines.  It  may  be 

that  Jehovah  will  work  for  us : for  there  is  no  restraint 
^^for  Jehovah  to  work  by  many  or  by  few.”  It  was  that 
undaunted  faith  which  caused  one  to  chase  a thousand, 

and  two  to  put  ten  thousand  to  flight,”  ® the  true  secret 
of  the  slightness  of  the  losses,  implied  if  not  stated,  in 
the  accounts  of  the  early  wars  of  Israel  against  Canaan. 
The  answer  of  the  armor-bearer  marks  the  close  friend- 
ship between  the  two  young  men ; already  similar  to 
that  which  afterwards  grew  up  between  Jonathan  and 
David.  ^^Do  all  that  is  in  thine  heart:  Hook  back  at  me,' 

behold  I am  with  thee : ^ as  thy  heart  is  my  heart.” 
Like  Gideon,  he  determined  to  draw  an  omen  from  the 
conduct  of  the  enemy,  the  more  because  he  had  no  time 
to  consult  Priest  or  Prophet  before  his  departure.  If 
the  garrison  threatened  to  descend,  he  would  remain 
below;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  they  raised  a challenge, 
he  would  accept  it.  It  was  the  first  dawn  of  day^  when 

1 1 Sam.  xiv.  1 (LXX.).  3 Dcut.  xxxii.  30. 

2 Ibid.  xiv.  4 (Hebrew)  ; sec  Mich-  4 1 Sam.  xiv.  7 (Ileb.). 

MASH  in  Diet,  of  Bible.  * .Josephus,  Ant.  vi.  6,  § 2. 


Lect.  XXL  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  AGE  OF  THE  JUDGES.  17 


the  two  warriors  emerged  from  behind  the  rocks.  Their 
appearance  was  taken  by  the  Philistines  as  a furtive 
apparition  of  “ the  Hebrews  coming  forth  out  of  their 
holes  ” like  wild  creatures  from  a warren,  — and  they 
were  welcomed  with  a scoffing  invitation,  Come  up,  and 
^^we  will  show  you  a thing.”  Jonathan  took  them  at 
their  word.  It  was  an  enterprise  that  exactly  suited  his 
peculiar  turn.  He  was  swifter  than  an  eagle,” — he 
could,  as  it  were,  soar  up  into  the  eagles’  nests.  He  was 
stronger  than  a lion ; ” ^ he  could  plant  his  claws  in  the 
crags,  and  force  his  way  into  the  heart  of  the  enemy’s 
lair.  His  chief  weapon  was  his  bow.  His  whole  tribe 
was  a tribe  of  archers,^  and  he  was  the  chief  archer  ^ of 
them  all.  Accordingly  he,  with  his  armor-  bauie 
bearer  behind  him,  climbed  on  his  hands  and  mash, 
feet  up  the  face  of  the  cliff,  and  when  he  came  full  in 
view  of  the  enemy,  they  both  discharged  such  a flight 
of  arrows,  stones,  and  pebbles  from  their  bows,  cross- 
bows, and  slings,  that  twenty  men  fell  at  the  first  onset, 
and  the  garrison  fled  in  a panic.^  The  panic  spread  to 
the  camp,  and  the  surrounding  hordes  of  marauders. 
An  earthquake  blended  with  the  terror  of  the  moment. 
It  was,  as  the  sacred  writer  expresses  it,  a universal 
^Hrembling,”  ^^a  trembling  of  God.”^  The  shaking  of 
the  earth,  and  the  shaking  of  the  enemies’  host,  and  the 
shaking  of  the  Israelite  hearts  with  the  thrill  of  victory, 
all  leaped  together.  On  all  sides  the  Philistines  felt 
themselves  surrounded.  The  Israelites  whom  they  had 
taken  as  slaves  during  the  last  three  days®  rose  in 
mutiny  in  the  camp.  Those  who  lay  hid  in  the  caverns 

' 1 Chr.  xii.  2.  4 i Sam.  xlv.  13,  14  (LXX  ). 

* 2 Sam.  i.  23.  5 Ibid.  15  (Hebrew). 

3 Ibid.  i.  22;  1 Sam.  xvili.  4 xx.  ® Ibid.  21  (LXX.). 

S6,  &c. 

VOL.  II.  2 


18  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  AGE  OF  THE  JUDGES.  Lkct.  XXI 


and  deep  clefts  with  which  the  neighborhood  abounds, 
sprang  out  of  their  subterraneous  dwellings.  From  the 
distant  height  of  Gibeah,  Saul,  who  had  watched  the 
confusion  in  astonishment,  descended  headlong  and 
joined  in  the  pursuit.  It  was  a battle  that  was  remem- 
bered as  reaching  clean  over  the  country,  from  the 
extreme  eastern  to  the  extreme  western  pass  — down 
the  rocky  defile  of  Beth-horon,  down  into  the  valley  of 
Aijalon.  The  victory  was  so  decisive  as  to  give  its  name, 
the  war  cf  Michmash,”  ^ to  the  whole  campaign.  The 
Philistines  were  driven  back  not  to  reappear  till  the 
close  of  the  reign.  The  memory  of  the  event  was  long 
preserved  in  the  altar,  the  first  raised  under  the  mon- 
archy, on  the  spot  where  they  had  first  halted. 

That  altar  is  also  a sign  that  we  are  still  within  the 
confines  of  the  former  generation.  It  was  the  last  relic 
of  the  age  of  vows.  Saul  had  invoked  a solemn  curse 
on  any  one  who  should  eat  before  the  evening.  When 
Jonathan,  after  his  desperate  exertions,  found  himself 
in  the  forest,  which,  not  yet  cleared,  ran  up  into  the 
hills  from  the  plain  of  Sharon,^  he  was  overcome  by 
the  darkness®  and  dizziness  of  long  fatigue.  The  father 
- and  the  son  had  not  met  all  that  day.  Jonathan  was 
ignorant  of  his  father’s  imprecation,  and  putting  forth 
the  staff  which  (with  his  sling  and  bow)  had  been  his 
only  weapon,  tasted  the  honey  which  overflowed  from 
the  wild  hives  as  they  dashed  through  the  forest.  The 
people  in  general  were  restrained  by  fear  of  the  Eoyal 
Curse ; but  the  moment  that  the  day  with  its  enforced 
fast  was  over,  they  flew,  like  Mussulmans  at  sunset 
during  the  fast  of  Ramazan,  upon  the  captured  cattle, 
and  devoured  them  even  to  the  brutal  neglect  of  the 

1 1 Sam.  xiii.  22  (LXX.).  3 1 Sam.  xiv.  27  (LXX.). 

* S«e  Shiai  and  Palestine^  Chap. VI* 


Lkct.  XXI. 


SAUL. 


19 


law  forbidding  the  eating  of  flesh  which  contained 
blood.^  This  violation  of  the  sacred  usage  Saul  en- 
deavored to  control  by  erecting  a large  stone  which 
served  the  purpose  at  once  of  a rude  altar  and  a rude 
table.  In  the  dead  of  night,  after  this  wild  revel  was 
over,  he  proposed  that  the  pursuit  should  be  continued, 
and  then,  when  the  silence  of  the  oracle  of  the  High 
Priest  disclosed  to  him  that  his  vow  had  been  broken, 
he  at  once,  like  Jephthah,  prepared  himself  for  the 
dreadful  sacrifice  of  his  child.  But  there  was  sacrifice  of 
now  a freer  and  more  understanding  spirit  in 
the  nation  at  large.  What  was  tolerated  in  the  time 
of  Jephthah,  when  every  man  did  what  was  right  in  his 
own  eyes,  amd  when  the  obligation  of  such  vows  over- 
rode all  other  considerations,  — was  no  longer  tolerated. 
The  people  interposed  in  Jonathan’s  behalf  They  rec- 
ognized the  religious  aspect  of  his  great  exploit.  They 
rallied  round  him  with  a zeal  that  overbore  even  the 
royal  vow,  and  rescued  Jonathan,  that  he  died  not.^  It 
was  the  dawn  of  a better  day.  It  was  the  national 
spirit,  now  in  advance  of  their  chief,  — animated  by  the 
same  Prophetic  teaching,  which  through  the  voice  of 
Samuel  had  now  made  itself  felt,  — the  conviction  that 
there  was  a higher  duty  even  than  outward  sacrifice  or 
exact  fulfilment  of  literal  vows. 

This  leads  us  to  the  consideration  of  the  other  side 
of  the  character  of  Saul  himself  He  was,  as  we  have 
seen,  in  outward  form  and  in  the  special  mission  to 
which  he  was  called,  but  as  one  of  the  class  of  the  old 
heroic  age,  which  was  passing  away.  But  he  was  somo- 

1 Lev.  xvil.  10,  11  ; Deut.  xli.  23.  ner  of  a Greek  or  Romar  . Ewald 

2 Josephus  {Ant.  vi,  6,  § 5)  puts  supposes  that  a substitute  was  killed 
into  Jonathan’s  mouth  a speech  of  in  his  place. 

t>atriotic  self-devotion,  after  the  man- 


20 


SAUL 


Lect.  XXI 


thing  more  than  these  had  been.  His  call  was  after  a 
different  manner  from  that  of  the  older  Judges.  He 
had  shared  in  the  Prophetic  inspiration  of  the  time. 
He  had  shared  in  an  inward  as  well  as  an  outward 
change.  God/’  we  are  told,  gave  him  another  heart,” 
and  ^Jie  became  another  man.”  The  three  tokens  which 
Samuel  foretold  to  him  well  expressed  the  significance 
of  the  change,  which,  in  modern  language,  would  be 
The  first  called  his  conversion.”  ^ He  was  the  first  of 
the  long  succession  of  Jewish  Kings.  He  was 
the  first  recorded  instance  of  inauguration,  by  that  sin- 
gular ceremonial  which,  in  imitation  of  the  Hebrew  rite, 
has  descended  to  the  coronation  of  our  own  sovereigns. 
The  sacred  oil^  was  used  for  his  ordination  as  for  a 
Priest.  He  was  the  Lord’s  Anointed”  in  a peculiar 
sense,  that  invested^  his  person  with  a special  sanctity. 
And  from  him  the  name  of  the  Anointed  One  ” was 
handed  on  till  it  received  in  the  latest  days  of  the  Jew- 
ish Church  its  very  highest  application,  — in  Hebrew,  or 
Aramaic,  the  MesdaJi ; in  Greek,  the  Christ.  Eegal  state 
gradually  gathered  round  him.  Ahijah,  the  surviving 
representative  of  the  doomed  house  of  Ithamar,  was 
always  at  hand,  in  the  dress  of  the  sacred  Ephod,  to 
answer  his  questions.  The  Ephod  was  the  substitute 
for  the  exiled  Ark.^  A new  sanctuary  arose  not  far 
from  Gibeah,  at  Nob,  on  the  northern  shoulder  of  Oli- 
vet, where  the  Tabernacle  was  again  set  up, — where  the 
shewbread  was  still  kept,  and  where  the  trophies  of  the 
Philistine  war  were  suspended  within  the  sacred  tent." 

1 See  pp.  8,  9.  xiv.  18,  where  the  LXX.  by  reading 

2 Comp.  1 Sam.  x.  1;  xiv.  13.  “ephod”  for  “ark,”  corrects  an  oh- 

3 2 Sam.  i.  14,  21  ; 1 Sam.  xxiv.  6,  vious  mistake. 

10  ; XX vi.  9,  16.  5 i Sam.  xxi.  9, 

< Comp.  1 Chr.  xiii.  3;  1 Sam. 


Lect.  XXI 


THE  FIRST  KING 


21 


The  beginnings  of  a ‘4iost”^  are  now  first  indicated. 
The  office  of  captain  of  the  host  ” is  filled  by 

T • 1 A 1 court. 

his  kmsmanj  the  generous  and  princely  Ab- 
ner.^ Now  also  is  established  the  body-guard,  always 
round  the  King’s  ® person,  selected  from  his  own  tribe, ^ 
for  their  stature  ^ and  beauty,  and  at  their  head  the  sec- 
ond officer®  of  the  kingdom,  one  who  united  with  the 
arts  of  war  the  noblest  gifts  of  peace,  one  whom  we 
shall  recognize  elsewhere  than  in  the  court  of  Saul,  — 
David,  the  son  of  Jesse.  And,  closely  bound  with  this 
high  officer  is  the  heir  of  the  throne,  the  great  archer 
of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin,  the  heroic  Jonathan.  These 
three  sat  ^ at  the  King’s  table.  Another  inferior  officer 
appears  incidentally:  ^Hhe  keeper  of  the  royal  mules”® 
and  chief  of  the  household  slaves^  — the  comes  stabulV" 
— the  constable  ” of  the  King,  such  as  appears  in  the 
later  monarchy.^®  He  is  the  first  instance  of  a foreigner 
employed  in  a high  function  in  Israel,  being  an  Edom- 
ite or  Syrian,^^  of  the  name  of  Doeg,  — according  to 
Jewish  tradition  the  steward  who  accompanied  Saul  in 
his  pursuit  after  the  asses,  Avho  counselled  him  to  send 
for  David,  and  whose  son  ultimately  slew  him ; — -accord- 
ing to  the  sacred  narrative,  a person  of  vast  and  sinis- 
ter influence  in  his  master’s  counsels. 

1 The  “ host  ” appears  immediately  7 1 Sam.  xx.  25. 

after  his  accession,  in  the  word  (Jia-  ® Ibid.  xxi.  7 (LXX.)  ; Joseph 
chdil)  mistranslated  “ band”  in  1 Ant.  vi.  12,  §§  1,  4. 

Sam.  X.  26.  Comp.  xiii.  2.  ® Ibid.  xxii.  9. 

2 1 Sam.  xiv.  50.  1 Chr.  xxvii.  30. 

3 “ The  servants  before  his  face,”  I u 1 Sam.  xxi.  7 ; xxii.  9.  The 

Sam.  xvi.  15:  “ Young  men,”  xvi,  17.  Hebrew  here,  as  in  other  cases,  has 

4 1 Sam.  xxii.  7 ; Joseph.  Ant.  vii.  “ Edomite,”  the  LXX.  and  Josephus 

1,  § 4.  “Syrian.” 

5 1 Sam.  xiv.  52 ; Joseph.  Ant.  vi.  Jerome,  Qu.  Heh.  on  1 Sam.  xxi 

^,  § 6.  7 ; xxii.  9 ; 2 Sam.  i. 

® 1 Sam.  xxii  14.  (Ewald,  iii.  98.) 


22 


SAUL. 


Lect.  XXI 


Tlie  King  himself  was  distinguished  by  marks  of 
royalty  not  before  observed  in  the  nation.  His  tall 
spear,  already  noticed,  was  always  by  his  side,  in  re- 
pose,^ at  his  meals,^  when  sleeping,'^  when  in  battle.^ 
He  wore  a diadem  round  his  brazen  helmet  and  a brace- 
let on  his  arm.^  His  victories  soon  fulfilled  the  hopes 
for  which  his  office  was  created.  Moab,  Edom,  Ammon, 
Amalek,  and  even  the  distant  Zobah,®  felt  his  power. 
The  Israelite  women  met  him  on  his  return  from  his 
wars  with  songs  of  greeting;  and  eagerly  looked  out 
for  the  scarlet  robes  and  golden  ornaments  which  he 
brought  back  as  their  prey.^ 

From  these  signs  of  hope  and  life  in  the  house  of 
Saul,  we  turn  to  the  causes  of  its  downfall. 

If  Samuel  is  the  great  example  of  an  ancient  saint 
His  imper-  growing  up  froiu  clilldhood  to  old  age  without 

feet  coiivcr* 

«on.  a sudden  conversion,  Saul  is  the  first  direct  ex- 
ample of  the  mixed  character  often  produced  by  such 
a conversion,  a call  coming  in  the  midway  of  life  to 
rouse  the  man  to  higher  thoughts  than  the  lost  asses 
of  his  father’s  household,  or  than  the  tumults  of  war 
and  victory.  He  became  another  man,”  yet  not  en- 
tirely. He  was,  as  is  so  often  the  case,  half-converted, 
half-roused.  His  mind  moved  unequally  and  dispropor- 
tionately in  its  new  sphere.  Backwards  and  forwards 
in  the  names  of  his  children,  we  see  alternately  the 
signs  of  the  old  heathenish  superstition,  and  of  the  new 
purified  religion  of  Jehovah.  Jonathan,  his  first-born, 
is  ^Hhe  gift  of  Jehovah;”  Melchi-shua  is  ^Hhe  help  of 
Moloch;”  his  grandson  Merib-baal  is  ^Hhe  soldier  of 

1 1 Sam.  xviii.  10  ; xix.  9.  ^2  Sam.  i.  6. 

2 Ibid.  XX.  23;  in  A.  V.  mistrans-  5 Ibid.  i.  10;  1 Sam.  xvii,  38. 

\ated  “javelin,”  and  the  article  omit-  ® 1 Sam.  xiv.  47. 

led.  Ibid,  xviii.  G ; 2 Sam.  i.  24. 

2 1 Sam.  xxvi.  11. 


Lect.  XXI 


HIS  FALL. 


23 


Baal and  his  fourth  son,  Ish-baal,  the  man  of  Baal;” 
and  here  again  Baal  ” is  swept  out,  and  appears  only 
as  Bosheth,”  the  shame  or  reproach,”  — Mephibo- 
sheth,  Ish-boshethd  He  caught  the  Prophetic  inspira- 
tion, not  continuously,  but  only  in  fitful  gusts.  Passion- 
ately he  would  enter  into  it  for  the  time,  as  he  came 
within  the  range  of  his  better  associations,  tear  off  his 
clothes,  and  lie  stretched  on  the  ground  under  its  in- 
fluence for  a night  and  a day  together.  But  then  he 
would  be  again  the  slave  of  his  common  pursuits.  His 
religion  was  never  blended  with  his  moral  nature.  It 
broke  out  in  wild,  ungovernable  acts  of  zeal  and  super- 
stition, and  then  left  him  more  a prey  than  ever  to  his 
own  savage  disposition.  With  the  prospects  and  the 
position  of  a David,  he  remained  to  the  end  a Jephthah 
or  a Samson,  with  this  difference, — that,  having  out- 
lived the  age  of  Jephthah  and  of  Samson,  he  could  not 
be  as  they ; and  the  struggle,  therefore,  between  what 
he  was  and  what  he  might  have  been,  grew  fiercer  as 
years  went  on ; and  the  knowledge  of  Samuel,  and  the 
companionship  of  David,  become  to  him  a curse  instead 
of  a blessing. 

Of  all  the  checks  on  the  dangers  incident  to  the 
(growth  of  an  Oriental  monarchy  in  the  Jewish  h is  oppo- 

^ , . , 1 • 1 sition  to  the 

nation,  the  most  prominent  was  that  which  Prophets. 
Providence  supplied  in  the  contemporaneous  growth  of 
the  Prophetical  office.  But  it  was  just  this  far-reaching 
vision  of  the  past  and  future,  which  Saul  was  unable  to 
understand.  At  the  very  outset  of  his  career,  Samuel, 
the  great  representative  of  the  Prophetical  order,  had 
warned  him  not  to  enter  on  his  kingly  duties  till  he 
should  appear  to  inaugurate  them  and  to  instruct  him 
in  them.  It  would  seem  to  have  been  almost  inimedi- 

1 1 Sam.  xiv.  4,  9 ; xxxi.  2 ; 1 Chr.  viii.  33. 


24 


SAUL. 


Lect.  XXI 


ately  after  his  first  call,  that  the  occasion  arose.  The 
war  with  the  Philistines  was  impending.  He  could  not 
restrain  the  vehemence  of  his  religious  emotions.  As 
King,  he  had  the  right  to  sacrifice.  Without  a sacrifice 
it  seemed  to  him  impossible  to  advance  to  battle.  He 
sacrificed,  and  by  that  ritual  zeal  defied  the  warning  of 
the  Prophetic  monitor.  It  was  the  crisis  of  his  trial.^ 
He  had  shown  that  he  could  not  understand  the  dis- 
tinction between  moral  and  ceremonial  duty,  on  which 
the  greatness  of  his  people  depended.  It  was  not  be- 
cause he  sacrificed,  but  because  he  thought  sacrifice 
greater  than  obedience,  that  the  curse  descended  upon 
him. 

Again,  in  the  sacred  war  against  Amalek,  there  is  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  Saul  spared  the  king  for  any 
other  reason  than  that  for  which  he  retained  the  spoil,  — 
namely,  to  make  a more  splendid  show  at  the  sacrificial 
thanksgiving.^  Such  was  the  Jewish  tradition  preserved 
by  Josephus,^  who  expressly  says  that  Agag  was  saved 
for  his  stature  and  beauty ; and  such  is  the  general  im- 
pression left  by  the  description  of  the  celebration  of  the 
victory.  Saul  rides  to  the  southern  Carmel  in  a char- 
iot,^ never  mentioned  elsewhere,  and  sets  up  a monu- 
ment there,  which,  according  to  the  Jewish  traditions,^ 
was  a triumphal  arch  of  olives,  mj^rtles,  and  palms. 
The  name  given  to  God  on  the  occasion  is  taken  from 
this  crowning  triumph.  The  Victory  of  Israel.”  ® This 
second  act  of  disobedience  calls  down  the  second  curse, 
in  the  form  of  that  Prophetic  truth  which  stands  out 

1 1 Sam.  xiii.  8,  compared  with  4 i Sam.  xv.  12  (LXX.). 

1 Sam.  X.  8,  with  which  it  must  be  5 Jerome,  Qn.  Heh.  ad  loc. 

taken  in  close  connection.  See  The-  ® 1 Sam.  xv.  29  (Heb.) ; Vulg 

aiiis  ad  loc.  and  Ewald.  “ triuniphans  : ” and  comp.  1 Chr 

' 1 Sam.  XV.  21  xxlx.  11. 

^ Ant.  vi.  7,  § 2. 


Lect.  XXL 


ms  SUPERSTITION. 


25 


all  the  more  impressively  from  the  savage  scene  with 
which  it  is  connected.  ^^Hath  Jehovah  as  great  delight 
^^in  burnt  offerings  and  sacrificeSj  as  in  obeying  the 
word  of  the  Lord  ? Behold,  to  obey  is  more  than 
good  sacrifice,  to  hearken  than  the  fat  of  rams.”  ^ The 
struggle  between  Samuel  and  Saul  in  their  final  parting 
is  indicated  by  the  rent  of  Samuel’s  robe  of  state,  as  he 
tears  himself  away  from  Saul’s  grasp,^  and  by  the  long 
anguish  of  Samuel  for  the  separation.  Samuel  mourned 
for  Saul.”  How  long  wilt  thou  mourn  for  Saul  ? ” ^ 
The  terrible  vengeance  exacted  on  the  fallen  King  by 
Samuel  is  the  measure  of  Saul’s  delinquency.  The 
mighty  chief  whose  sword  was  so  dreaded  amongst  the 
mothers  ^ of  Israel  was  now  himself  crouching  ^ awe- 
struck at  the  feet  of  the  Prophet,  who  hewed  him  limb 
from  limb  — a victim  (so  th5  narrative  seems  to  imply) 
more  fitted  for  the  justice  of  God  than  the  helpless 
oxen  and  sheep,  whose  fat  carcasses  and  whose  senseless 
bleating  and  lowing  filled  the  Prophet’s  soul  with  such 
supreme  disdain.  The  ferocious  form  of  the  offering  of 
Agag  belongs  happily  to  an  extinct  dispensation.  But 
its  spirit  reminds  us  of  the  famous  saying  of  Peter  the 
Great,  when  entreated  in  a mortal  illness  to  secure  the 
Divine  mercy  by  the  pardon  of  some  criminals  con- 
demned to  death : Carry  out  the  sentence.  Heaven 

•^will  be  propitiated  by  this  act  of  justice.”®  To  receive 
benefits  from  the  society  of  those  whom  we  condemn, 
and  yet  to  exclaim  against  the  pollution  of  it,  — to  set 
at  naught  obvious  duties  for  the  sake  of  the  religious  as- 

1 1 Sam.  XV.  22  (Hebrew).  rendered  “delicately”  (1  Sam.  xv.) 

2 For  the  gesture,  see  Joseph.  Ant.  in  the  A.  V.  should  be  translated  “in 

ri.  7,  § 5.  joy  ” or  “ in  terz’or.”  See  Thenius  ad 

3 1 Sam.  XV.  35;  xvi.  1.  loc.  The  Vulgate  gives  both  pinguid" 

4 Ibid.  XV.  33.  simus  and  tremens. 

* It  is  doubtful  whether  the  word  ® Stahlin’s  Peter  the  Great,  § 2. 


26 


SAUL. 


Lect.  XXI 


ceiidency  of  our  own  peculiar  views,  is,  as  has  been  well 
said,  the  modern  likeness  of  the  piety  of  Saul  when  he 
spared  the  best  of  the  oxen  and  the  sheep  to  sacrifice 
to  the  Lord  in  Gilgal.^ 

What  Saul  did  then,  he  was  doing  always.  His  re- 
ligious zeal  was  always  breaking  out  in  wrong  channels, 
on  irregular  occasions,  in  his  own  way.  The  Gibeonites 
he  destroyed,  probably  as  a remnant  of  the  ancient  Ca- 
naanites,  heedless  of  the  covenant  which  their  ancestors 
His  super-  made  with  Joshua.^  The  wizards  ^ and  nec- 

Btition.  romancers  he  cut  off,  unmindful,  till  reminded 
by  the  Prophet,  that  his  own  wilfulness  was  as  the  sin 
of  witchcraft,  and  his  own  stubbornness  as  the  sin  of 
idolatry.  The  priesthood  of  Nob  he  swept  away,  per- 
haps in  the  mere  rage  of  disappointment,  or  under  the 
overweening  influence  of  Hoeg,  but  also,  it  may  be,  as 
an  instrument  of  Divine  vengeance  on  the  accursed 


house  of  Ithamar.^ 

Out  of  these  conflicting  elements,  — out  of  a charac- 
ter unequal  to  his  high  position,  — out  of  the  zeal  of 
a partial  conversion  degenerating  into  a fanciful  and 
gloomy  superstition,  arose  the  first  example  of  what  has 
jjjg  been  called  in  after-times  religious  madness, 

madness.  Unhingement  of  his  mind,  which  is  per- 

haps first  apparent  in  the  wild  vow  or  fixed  idea  which 
doomed  his  son  to  death,  gradually  becomes  more  and 
more  evident.  He  is  not  wholly  insane.  The  lucid  in- 
tervals are  long,  the  dark  hours  are  few,  but  we  trace 
step  by  step  the  gradual  advance  of  the  fatal  malady. 
‘^The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  departed  from  Saul;  and  an 


1 Arnold,  On  the  Christian  Duty  of  4 » Thou  and  all  thy  father's  house, 

conceding  the  Roman  Catholic  Claims  1 Sam.  xxii.  16.  Josephus  (ylni'.  vi 
Miscell.  Works,  p.  76).  12,  § 7)  regards  it  as  the  climax  ol 

2 2 Sam.  xxi.  2.  See  Lecture  XT.  guilt,  brought  on  by  despotic  power. 

* 1 Sam.  xxviii.  9 (Ewald,  iii.  67). 


Lscr.  XXL 


ms  MADNESS. 


27 


‘^evil  spirit  from  the  Lord  troubled  him  — terrified^ 
choked^  him.”  It  was  an  evil  spirit;  and  yet  it 
seemed  — it  is  expressly  called  — ^^a  spirit  of  God;” 
and  in  the  midst  of  his  ravings,  the  old  Prophetic  in- 
spiration of  his  better  days^  could  return  — ^-he  proph- 
esied.” 

How  touching  is  the  entrance  on  the  scene  of  the 
one  man  who  could  charm  away  the  demon  of  madness, 
the  one  bright  spirit  in  the  gloomy  court,  the  one  who 
finds  favor  in  his  sight ; and  yet  the  one  who  ministers, 
in  spite  of  himself,  to  the  waywardness  of  the  diseased 
mind,  which  he  was  called  in  to  cure,  himself  the  victim 
of  the  love  which  a distempered  imagination  turned 
into  jealousy  and  hatred. 

^^And  Saul’s  servants  said  unto  him.  Behold  now,  an 
evil  spirit  from  God  troubleth  thee.  Let  our 
lord  now  command  thy  servants,  which  are  be- 
^^fore  thee,  to  seek  out  a man,  who  is  a cunning  player 
^^on  a harp:  and  it  shall  come  to  pass,  when  the  evil 
spirit  from  God  is  upon  thee,  that  he  shall  play  with 
his  hand,  and  thou  shalt  be  well.  And  Saul  said  unto 
^Giis  servants.  Provide  me  now  a man  that  can  play 
^^well,  and  bring  him  to*  me.  Then  answered  one  of^ 
the  young  men  and  said.  Behold,  I have  seen  a son  of 
Jesse  the  Beth-lehemite,  that  is  cunning  in  playing, 
^^and  a mighty  valiant  man,  and  a man  of  war,  and 
prudent  in  speech,  and  a comely  person,  and  the  Lord 
is  with  him.”  From  this  time  forth  the  history  of  the 
two  is  indissolubly  united.  In  his  better  moments  Saul 

1 tTTviysv,  1 Sam.  xvi.  14.  'KviyuovQ  3 According  to  the  Jewish  tradition 

iiirw  Kol  arpayyulaQ  ETU(j>ipovTa  (Joseph,  this  was  Doeg,  who  did  it  with  mali- 
Ant.  vi.  8,  § 2).  cious  foresight  of  the  result  (Jerome, 

2 Compare  also  the  double  mean-  Qun:st.  Heb.  in  loc.). 
ng  of  “ prophesying,”  1 Sam.  xviii. 

10,  11.  (See  Joseph.  AnL  vi.  11,  § 5.) 


28 


SAUL. 


Lect.  XXI 


never  lost  the  strong  affection  which  he  had  contracted 
for  David.  He  loved  him  greatly.”  ^ Saul  would 
^Het  him  go  no  more  home  to  his  father’s  house.”  ^ 

Wherefore  cometh  not  the  son  of  Jesse  to  meat?”* 
They  sit  side  by  side,  the  likenesses  of  the  old  system 
passing  away,  of  the  new  system  coming  into  exist- 
ence. Saul,  the  warlike  chief,  his  great  spear  always 
by  his  side,  reluctant,  moody,  melancholy  and  David, 
the  youthful  minstrel,  his  harp  in  his  hand,  fresh  from 
the  schools  where  the  spirit  of  the  better  times  was  fos- 
tered, pouring  forth  to  soothe  the  troubled  spirit  of  the 
King  the  earliest  of  those  strains  which  have  soothed 
the  troubled  spirit  of  the  whole  world.  Saul  is  re- 
freshed and  is  well,  and  the  evil  spirit  departs  from 
him.  And  then,  again,  the  paroxysm  of  rage  and  jeal- 
ousy returns.  Wherever  he  goes  he  is  alternately 
cheered  and  maddened  by  the  same  rival  figure.  By 
David  he  is  delivered  from  the  giant  Philistine,  and  by 
the  songs  of  triumph  over  David’s  success  he  is  turned 
against  him.  He  dismisses  him  from  his  court,  he 
throws  him  into  dangers ; but  David’s  disgrace  and 
danger  increase  his  popularity.  He  makes  the  mar- 
riage with  his  daughter  a trap  for  David,  and  com- 
mands his  son  to  kill  him ; and  his  design  ends  in 
Michal’s  passionate  love,  and  in  Jonathan’s  faithful 
friendship.  He  pursues  him  over  the  hills  of  Judah, 
and  he  finds  that  he  has  been  unconsciously  in  his 
enemy’s  power  and  spared  by  his  enemy’s  generosity ; 
and  with  that  ebb  and  flow  of  sentiment  so  natural,  so 
true,  so  difficult  to  square  with  any  precise  theories  of 
predestination  or  reprobation,  yet  so  important  as  in- 
dications of  a living  human  characb^r — the  old  fathei'ly 
feeling  towards  David  revives.  Is  this  thy  voice,  niA 

1 1 Sam.  xvi.  21.  2 Ibid,  xvlll.  2.  3 Ibid.  xx.  27, 


Lkct.  XXI. 


HIS  LAST  DAYS, 


29 


^ son  David  ? And  he  lifted  up  his  voice  and  wept.  1 
have  sinned.  Return,  my  son  David : behold,  I have 
played  the  fool,  and  erred  exceedingly.  Blessed  be 
thou,  my  son  David : thou  shalt  both  do  great  things, 
‘^and  also  shalt  still  prevail.  David  went  on  his  way, 
and  Said  returned  to  his  place.”  ^ So  they  part  on 
the  hills  of  Judah.  One  support  was  stdl  left  to  the 
house  of  Saul.  David  we  shall  track  elsewhere, 

The  love  of  Jonathan  for  David  we  shall  have 
occasion  to  follow  in  David’s  history.  But  we  do  not, 
perhaps,  sufficiently  appreciate  the  devotion  of  Jona- 
than for  his  unfortunate  father.  From  the  time  that 
he  first  appears  he  is  Saul’s  constant  companion.  He 
is  always  present  at  the  royal  table.  He  holds  the 
office  afterwards  known  as  that  of  the  kino-’s  friend.”  ^ 

O 

The  deep  attachment  of  the  father  and  the  son  is  every- 
where implied.  Jonathan  can  only  go  on  his  dangerous 
expedition  by  concealing  it  from  Saul.^  Saul’s  vow  is 
confirmed,  and  its  tragic  effect  deepened  by  his  feeling 
for  Jonathan  — though  it  be  Jonathan  my  son.”  ^ 
Jonathan  cannot  bear  to  believe  his  father’s  enmity  to 
David.  My  father  will  do  nothing,  great  or  small,  but 
that  he  will  show  it  me : and  why  should  my  father 
hide  this  thing  from  me  ? it  is  not  ^ so.”  To  him,  if  to 
any  one,  the  frenzy  of  the  king  was  amenable.  Saul 
^Hiearkened  unto  the  voice  of  Jonathan.”®  Once  only 
was  there  a decided  break  ^ — a disclosure,  as  it  would 
seem,  of  some  dark  passage  in  the  previous  history  of 
Ahinoam  or  of  Rizpah,  — Son  of  a perverse,  rebellious 
woman  ! Shame  on  thy  mother’s  nakedness ! ” “In 

1 1 Sam.  xxiv.  16;  xxvi.  17-25.  ® Ibid.  xx.  2. 

2 Ibid.  XX.  25;  2 Sam.  xv.  37.  ® Ibid.  xix.  6. 

8 1 Sam.  xiv.  1.  7 Ibid.  xx.  30.  81 

^ Ibid.  xiv.  39. 


30 


SAUL. 


Lect.  XXI 


fierce  anger  ” ^ Jonathan  left  the  royal  presence.  Bui 
now  that  the  final  parting  was  come,  he  took  his  lot 
with  his  father’s  decline,  not  with  his  friend’s  rise — and 
^“^in  death  they  were  not  divided.” 

The  darkness,  indeed,  gathered  fast  and  deep  over 
the  fated  house. 

The  Philistines,  so  long  kept  at  bay,  once  more  broke 
The  battle  into  the  Israelite  territory.  From  the  five 

of  Mount  ^ ^ 

Gilboa.  cities  they  advanced  far  into  the  land.  They 
had  been  driven  from  the  hills  of  Judah.  They  now 
summoned  all  their  strength  for  a last  struggle  in  the 
plain  of  Esdraelon,  Avhere  their  chariots^  and  horses 
could  move  freely.  On  the  central  branch  of  the  plain, 
on  the  southern  slope  of  the  range  called  the  Hill  of 
Moreh,  by  the  town  of  Shunem,  they  pitched  their 
camp.  On  the  opposite  side,  on  the  rise  of  Mount  Oil- 
boa,  was  the  Israelite  army,  keeping  as  usual  to  the 
heights  which  were  their  security.  It  was  as  nearly  as 
possible  where  Gideon’s  camp  had  been  pitched  against 
the  Midianites,  hard  by  the  spring^  which  from  the 
fear  and  trembling  ” of  Gideon’s  companions  had  been 
called  the  spring  of  Harod,  or  ^Hrembling.”  We  know 
not  what  may  have  been  the  feeling  of  the  army  at 
this  second  like  conjuncture.  But  there  was  no  Gideon 
to  lead  them.  Saul,  (we  are  told,  with  a direct  allusion 
to  the  incident  which  had  given  its  name  to  the  place,) 
^Gvhen  he  saw  the  camp  of  the  Philistines,  was  afraid, 
and  his  heart  treinhled  exceedingljjr  ^ The  Spirit  of  the 
“ Lord,”  which  had  roused  him  in  his  former  years,  had 
now  departed  from  him.  There  was  now  no  harp  of 
the  shepherd  Psalmist  to  drive  aAvay  the  evil  spirit; 
and  " when  he  inquired  of  the  Lord,  the  Lord  answered 


1 1 Sam.  XX.  34. 

2 2 Sam.  i.  6 


3 1 Sam.  xxix.  1 ; Judg.  vii.  1,  3. 

4 1 Sam.  xxvili.  5. 


THK  PLAIX  OF  ESDHAFLOX 


<3  ShfiJJt. 


WM 


^Jezrec'l 


BethShw 


*ii 


Tilt  Msjcrl  Knapp  Eni  Mfis  Lith.Cc  56  PaI1^  Plate  K Y 


U(  r.  XXI. 


THE  WITCH  OE  ENDOR. 


31 


him  not ; ” no  vision  was  vouchsafed  to  him  in  trance 
or  dream,  as  before,  when  he  lay  undei  the  Prophetic 
influence  all  night  at  Pamah ; no  intimation  of  the 
Divine  will  by  the  Urim  and  Thummim  of  the  High- 
Priest’s  breastplate,  for  the  house  of  Ithamar  had  been 
exterminated  by  the  sword  of  Doeg,  and  its  sole  sur- 
vivor, Abiathar,  was  following  the  fortunes  of  his  fugi- 
tive rival ; no  consoling  voice  of  the  Prophets  of  God, 
for  Samuel,  his  ancient  counsellor,  had  long  since  parted 
from  him,  and  had  descended  in  mourning  to  his  grave. 
He  was  left  alone  to  himself ; and  now  the  last  spark  of 
life,  — the  religious  zeal  which  he  had  followed  even  to 
excess,  — this  also  vanished ; or  rather,  as  must  always 
be  the  case  when  it  has  thus  swerved  from  the  moral 
principle  which  alone  can  guide  it,  was  turned  into  a 
wild  and  desperate  superstition.  The  wizards  and  fa- 
miliar spirits,  whom  in  a fit  perhaps  of  righteous  indig- 
nation he  had  put  out  of  the  land,  now  become  his  only 
resource. 

Flectere  si  nequeo  superos,  Acheronta  movebo. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  ridge,  on  which  the  Philis- 
tines were  encamped,  was  Endor,  the  spring  of  Dor,” 
marked  in  Hebrew  poetry  as  the  scene  of  the  slaughter 
of  the  fugitive  host  of  Sisera.^  On  that  rocky 
mountain-side  dwelt  a solitary  woman  — ac- 
cording  to  Jewish^  tradition,  the  mother  of  Abner  — 

1 Ps.  Ixxxili.  10.  See  Lecture  XIV.  De  Engastrimylho,  in  Critici  Sacri, 

2 Jerome,Qu. ad  loc.  Volumes  vol,  11.)  The  LXX.  of  1 Sam.  xxviii. 
have  been  written  on  the  question,  7 (hyyaaTplgvdo^')  and  the  A.  V.  (by 
whether  in  the  scene  that  follows  we  Its  omission  of  “ himself”  in  xxviii.  14, 
are  to  understand  an  Imposture  or  a and  Insertion  of  “ when  ” in  xxviii 
real  apparition  of  Samuel.  Eustathius  12)  lean  to  the  former.  Josephus 
and  most  of  the  Fathers  take  the  (who  pronounces  a glowing  eulogy  on 
ormer  view;  Origen,  the  latter  view,  the  woman.  Ant.  vi.  14,  §§  2,  .S),  and 
Augustine  wavers.  (See  Leo  Allatius,  the  LXX.  of  1 Chr.  x.  13,  to  the  lat* 


SAUL. 


Lect.  XXI 


!?*>> 
< i :j 


who  had  escaped  the  King’s  persecution.  To  her,  as  tc 
one  who  still  held  converse  with  the  other  world,  came 
dead  of  night  three  unknown  guests,  of  whom  the 
chief  called  upon  her  to  wake  the  dead  Samuel  from 
the  world  of  shades,  which  at  that  time  formed  the  ut- 
most limit  of  the  Hebrew  conceptions  of  the  state  be- 
yond the  grave.  They  were  Saul,  and,  according  to  Jew- 
ish tradition,  Abner  and  Amasa.^  The  sacred  narrative 
does  not  pretend  to  give  us  the  distinct  details  of  the 
scene.^  But  we  hear  the  shriek  of  double  surprise,  with 
which  ^Avhen  the  woman  saw  Samuel,  she  cried  with  a 
loud  voice  \ ” we  see  with  her  the  venerable  figure, 
rising  from  the  earth,  like  a God,^  his  head  veiled  in 
his  regaH  or  sacred  mantle,  with  the  threatening  and 
disquieted  countenance  which  could  only  be,  as  she  sur- 
mised, assumed  against  his  ancient  enemy.  How  differ- 
ent from  that  joyous  meeting  at  the  feast  at  Ramah, 
when  the  Prophet  told  him  that  on  him  was  all  the  de- 
sire of  Israel,  on  him  and  on  his  father’s  house.  How 
different  from  that  chosen  ” and  goodly  ” youth,  to 
whom  there  was  none  like  among  the  people,”  was  the 
unhappy  king,  who,  when  he  heard  the  Prophet’s  judg- 
ment, fell  and  lay  ^Hhe  whole  length®  of  his  gigantic 


ter.  At  this  distance  of  time  it  is 
impossible  to  determine  the  exact  in- 
tention of  the  narrative,  though  its 
obvious  meaning  tends  to  the  hypoth- 
esis of  some  kind  of  apparition. 

1 Meyer,  notes  to  the  Seder  Olam^ 
p.  492. 

2 The  witch  is  called  in  the  Hebrew 
a pvoman  of  “ Ob,”  i.  e.  of  a skin  or 
bladder,  or  murmuring  voice,  which 
tli3  LXX.  have  rendered 
(^lantriloquist'),  and  the  Vulgate  Py- 
thoness. It  is  a curious  instance  of 
the  dangers  of  relying  on  the  tran.s- 


lation,  even  of  the  most  highly  au- 
thoi'ized  version,  that  Voltaire  (Phil, 
of  Hist.  35)  argues  from  the  expres- 
sion Pythoness  the  Grecian  origin  of 
the  whole  story. 

3 1 Sam.  xxvili.  13  (Hebrew).  See 
Lecture  XVHI.  pp.  392,  404. 

4 upaTtKTjv  diTT^oida^  Joseph.  A?it.  vi. 
14,  § 2.  See  Lecture  XVIIL,  ibid. 

5 1 Sam.  xxviii.  20.  So  (as  in  1 
Sam.  xvi.  7,  the  height  of  his  stature) 
should  be  translated  the  words  which 
are  rendered  — “ all  along.”  As  in 
Homer,  uiyag  ueyalucTi. 


Liect.  XXL  THE  FLIGHT  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  SAUL. 


83 


stature  upon  the  earth,  and  was  sore  afraid,  and  there 
‘^was  no  strength  left  in  him.” 

It  was  on  the  following  day  that  the  Philistines 
charged  the  Israelite  army,  and  drove  them  up  the 
heights  of  Gilboa ! On  the  high  places  of  Gilboa,”  on 
their  own  familiar  and  friendly  high  places,  the  pride 

of  Israel  was  slain.”  ^ On  the  green  strip  which  breaks 
the  slope  of  the  mountain  upland  as  it  rises  from  the 
fertile  plain,  the  final  encounter  took  place.  Filled  as  it 
seemed  to  be  with  the  pledge  of  future  harvests  and 
offerings,  henceforth  a curse  might  well  be  called  to  rest 
upon  it,  and  the  bareness  of  the  bald  mountain,  without 
dew  or  rain,  to  spread  itself  over  the  fertile  soil. 

The  details  of  the  battle  are  but  seen  in  broken 
snatches,  as  in  the  short  scenes  of  a battle 

^ The  battle. 

acted  on  the  stage,  or  beheld  at  remote 
glimpses  by  an  accidental  spectator.  But  amidst  the 
shower  of  arrows  from  the  Philistine  archers  — or 
pressed  hard  even  on  the  mountain  side  by  their  char- 
ioteers^— the  figure  of  the  King  emerges  from  the 
darkness.  His  three  sons  ^ have  fallen  before  him.  His 
armor-bearer  lies  dead  beside  him.  But  on  his  own 
head  is  the  royal  crown  — on  his  arm  the  royal  brace- 
let. The  shield  or  light  buckler  which  he  always  wore 
has  been  cast  away  in  his  flight,^  stained  with  blood,  be- 
grimed with  filth ; the  polish  of  the  consecrated  oil  was 
gone  — it  was  a defiled  polluted  thing.^  The  huge 
spear  is  still  in  his  hand.  He  is  leaning  heavily  upon 
it;  he  has  received  his  death  wound  either  from  the 
enemy,®  or  from  his  own  sword ; the  dizziness  and  dark- 

1 2 Sam.  i.  5 2 Sara.  i. 

2 i bani.  xxxi.  3 ; 2 bam.  16.  6 1 Sara.  xxxi.  3,  4 (LXX.).  The 

3 JKiri.  2.  accounts  vary. 

4 2 Sam.  i.  21. 

VOL.  II.  8 


H 


THE  HOUSE  OF  SAUL. 


Lect.  XXI 


tiess  of  death  ^ is  upon  him.  At  that  moment  a wild 
His  death  ^i^ialekite/^  lured  probably  to  the  held  by  the 
hope  of  spoil,  came  up  and  hnished  the  work 
which  the  arrows  of  the  Philistines  and  the  sword  of 
Saul  himself  had  all  but  accomplished. 

The  Philistines  when  the  next  day  dawned  found  the 
corpses  of  the  father  and  of  his  three  sons.  The  tid- 
ings were  told  in  the  capital  of  Gath,  and  proclaimed 
through  the  streets  of  Ashkelon  ; the  daughters  of  the 
Philistines,  the  daughters  of  the  accursed  race  of  the 
uncircumcised,  rejoiced  as  they  welcomed  back  their 
victorious  kinsmen.  It  was  the  great  retribution  for 
the  fall  of  their  champion  of  G^i^th.  As  the  Israelites 
had  then  carried  off  his  head  and  his  sword  as  trophies 
to  their  sanctuary,  so  the  head  of  Saul  was  cut  off  and 
fastened  in  the  temple  of  Dagon  at  Ashdod,^  and  his 
arms  — the  spear  on  which  he  had  so  often  rested  — 
the  sword  and  the  famous  bow  of  Jonathan  — were  sent 
round  in  festive  processions  to  the  Philistine  cities,  and 
finally  deposited  in  the  temple  of  Ashtaroth,  in  the 
Canaanitish  city  of  Bethshan,  hard  by  the  fatal  field. 
On  the  walls  of  the  same  city,  overhanging  the  public 
place  in  front  of  the  gates,  were  hung  the  stripped  and 
dismembered  corpses. 

In  the  general  defection,  the  trans-Jordanic  territory 
remained  faithful  to  the  fallen  house.  One  town  espe- 
cially, Jabesh-Gilead,  whether  from  its  ancestral  connec- 
tion with  the  tribe  of  Benjamin,  or  from  its  recollection 
of  Saul’s  former  services,  immediately  roused  itself  to 
show  its  devotion.  The  whole  armed  population  rose, 
crossed  the  Jordan  at  dead  of  night,  and  carried  ofi‘  the 

1 2 Sam.  i.  9 (LXX.).  3 x Clir.  x.  10;  1 Sam.  xxxi  9 

2 A son  of  Doeg  (Jerome,  Quccst.  10. 
ffeb.  in  loc.). 


Lsct.  XXL  THE  FLIGHT  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  SAUL. 

bodies  of  the  king  and  princes  from  Bethshan.  There 
was  a conspicuous  tree  — whether  terebinth  or  tamor 
risk^ — close  beside  the  town.  Underneath  it  the  bones 
were  buried  with  a strict  funeral  fast  of  seven  days.^ 
The  court  and  camp  of  Saul  rallied  round  the  grave  of 
their  master  beyond  the  Jordan,  under  the  guidance  of 
Abner,  who  set  up  the  royal  house  at  the  ancient  East- 
ern sanctuary  of  Mahanaim.  Ish-bosheth  was  ^ ^ ^ ^ 
the  nominal  head.^  He  succeeded  not  as  in 
the  direct  descent,  but  according  to  the  usual  law  of 
Oriental  succession,  as  the  eldest  survivor  of  the  house. 
Thither  also  came  Rizpah,  the  Canaanite  concubine  of 
Saul,  with  her  two  sons.^  There  also  were  the  two 
princesses  — Michal  with  her  second  husband,  Merab 
with  her  five  sons,  and  her  husband  Adriel,  himself  a 
dweller  in  those  parts,  the  son,  perhaps,  of  the  great 
BarzillaU  Thither  was  brought  the  only  son  of  Jona- 
than, Mephibosheth.  He  was  then  but  a child  in  his 
nurse’s  arms.  She,  on  the  first  tidings  of  the  fatal  rout 
of  Gilboa,  fled  with  the  child  on  her  shoulder.  She 
stumbled  and  fell,  and  the  child  carried  the  remem- 
brance of  the  disaster  to  his  dying  day,  in  the  lameness 
of  both  his  feet.  He  too  was  conveyed  beyond  the  Jor- 
dan, and  brought  up  in  the  house  of  a powerful  Gile- 
adite chief,  bearing  the  old  trans  - Jordanic  name  of 
Machir.® 

On  the  hills  of  Gilead,  the  dynasty  thus  again  struck 
root,  and  Abner  gradually  regained  for  it  all  the  north 
of  Western  Palestine.  But  this  was  only  for  a time. 
An  unworthy  suspicion  of  Ish-bosheth  that  his  mighty 

1 The  latter  is  stated  In  1 Sam.  Ibid.  Hi.  7 ; xxi.  8. 

xxxi.  13,  the  former  in  1 Chr.  x.  12.  5 ibid.  ili.  13;  xxi.  8. 

2 1 Sam.  xxxi.  13;  1 Chr.  x.  12.  ® Ibid.  ix.  4. 

3 2 Sam.  ii.  8. 


36 


THE  HOUSE  OF  SAUL. 


LEcr.  XXI 


kinsman,  by  attempting  to  win  for  himself  the  widowed 
Rizpah,  was  aspiring  to  the  throne,  drove  that  high- 
spirited  chief  into  the  court  of  David,  where  he  fell  by 
the  hand  of  Joab. 

The  slumbering  vengeance  of  the  Gibeonites  for 
Murder  of  Saul’s  Onslaught  on  them,  completed  the  work 
ish-bosheth.  (destruction.  In  the  guard  of  Ish-bosheth, 
which,  like  that  of  Saul,  was  drawn  from  the  royal  tribe 
of  Benjamin,  were  two  representatives  of  the  old 
Canaanite  league  of  Gib  eon.  They  were  chiefs  of  the 
marauding^  troops  which  went  from  time  to  time  to 
attack  the  territory  of  Judah.  They  knew  the  habits 
of  the  court  and  king.  In  the  stillness  of  an  Eastern 
noon,  they  entered  the  palace  as  if  to  carry  off  the 
wheat  which  was  piled  up  near  the  entrance.  The 
female  slave  by  the  door  who  was  sifting  the  wheat  had, 
in  the  heat  of  the  day,^  fallen  asleep  at  her  task.  They 
stole  in  and  passed  into  the  royal  bedchamber,  where 
Ish-bosheth  lay  on  his  couch.  They  stabbed  him  in  the 
stomach,  cut  off  liis  head,  made  their  escape  all  that 
afternoon,  all  that  night,  down  the  valley  of  the  Jordan, 
and  presented  the  head  to  David  at  Hebron  as  a wel- 
come present.  They  met  with  a hard  reception.  The 
new  king  rebuked  them  sternly,  their  hands  and  feet 
were  cut  off,  and  their  mutilated  limbs  hung  up  over 
the  pool  at  Hebron.  In  the  same  place,  in  the  sepul- 
chre of  Abner,  the  head  of  Ish-bosheth  was  buried. 

But  the  vengeance  of  the  Gibeonites  was  not  yet 
Crucifixion  sated,  nor  the  calamities  of  Saul’s  house  fin- 
soil^ofsaui!  ished.  It  was  in  the  course  of  David’s  reign 
that  a three  months’  famine  fell  on  the  country.  A 
question  arose  as  to  the  latent  national  crime  which 

1 Comp  2 Sam.  iv.  2,  ill.  22,  where  2 2 Sam.  iv.  5-7  (LXX.) ; and  Jo- 
be same  word  {(jedad)  is  used.  scphus  (Anh  vii.  2,  § 1). 


Lect  XXI 


ITS  EXTERMINATION. 


87 


oould  have  called  forth  this  visitation.  This,  according 
to  the  oracle,  was  Saul’s  massacre  of  the  Gibeonites. 
The  crime  consisted  in  the  departure  from  the  solemn 
duty  of  keeping  faith  with  idolaters  and  heretics,  — a 
duty  which  even  in  Christian  times  has  often  been 
repudiated,  but  which  even  in  those  hard  times  David 
faithfully  acknowledged.^  This  is  the  better  side  of  this 
dark  event.  The  Gibeonites  saw  that  their  day  was 
come,  and  they  would  not  be  put  off  with  anything 
short  of  their  full  measure  of  revenge.  Seven  of  the 
descendants  of  Saul  — the  two  sons  of  Rizpah,  the  five 
sons  of  Merab  — were  dragged  from  their  retreat  be- 
yond the  Jordan.  Seven  crosses  were  erected  on  the 
sacred  hill  of  Gibeah  or  of  Gibeon,  and  there  the  unfortu- 
nate victims  were  crucified.  The  sacrifice  took  place  at 
the  beginning  of  barley  harvest,  — the  sacred  and  festal 
time  of  the  Passover,  — and  remained  there  in  the  full 
blaze  of  the  summer  skies  till  the  fall  of  the  periodical 
rain  in  October.  Underneath  the  corpses  sate  for  the 
whole  of  that  time  the  mother  of  two  of  them,  Rizpah 
— the  mater  dolorosa  (if  one  may  use  a striking  appli- 
cation^ of  that  sacred  phrase)  of  the  ancient  dispensation. 
She  had  no  tent  to  shelter  her  from  the  scorching  sun, 
nor  from  the  drenching  dews,  but  she  spread  on  the 
rocky  floor  her  thick  mourning-garment  of  black  sack- 
cloth, and  crouched  there  from  month  to  month  to  ward 
off  the  vultures  that  flew  by  day,  and  the  jackals  that 
prowled  by  night  over  the  dreadful  spot.  At  last  the 
royal  order  came  that  the  expiation  was  complete,  and 
from  the  crosses  — such  is  one  version  of  the  event — ■ 

1 Ps.  XV.  4.  See  Lecture  XL  Dictionary  of  the  Bible.  It  sliouUl 

2 The  verbal  details  of  this  account,  be  said  that  there  remains  the  possi- 
in  strict  conformity  with  tlie  Hebrew  bility  tl)at  the  bodies  were  hung  uj- 
text,  are  suggested  by  Mr.  Grove’s  after  death. 

^aphic  article  on  Rizpau  in  the 


38 


THE  HOUSE  OF  SAUL. 


Lect.  XXI 


the  bodies  were  taken  down  by  a descendant  of  the 
gigantic  aboriginal  racesd  It  would  seem  as  if  this 
tragical  scene  had  moved  the  whole  compassion  of  the 
king  and  nation  for  the  fallen  dynasty.  From  the  grave 
beneath  the  terebinth  of  Jabesh-Gilead,  the  bones  of 
Saul  and  Jonathan  were  at  last  brought  back  to  their 
own  ancestral  burial-place  at  Zelah^  on  the  edge  of  the 
tribe  of  Benjamin. 

It  must  have  been  at  this  same  time  that  the  search 
was  made  for  any  missing  descendants  of  Jonathan.  In 
the  entire  extinction  of  the  family  in  Western  Pales ' 
tine  it  was  with  difficulty  that  this  information  could  be 
obtained.  It  was  given  by  Ziba/  a former  slave  of  the 
royal  house.  And  David  said,  Is  there  any  that  is  left 
of  the  house  of  Saul,  that  I may  show  him.  the  kind- 
ness  of  God  for  Jonathan’s  sake  ? ” One  still  remained. 
Mephibo-  Mephiboslieth  was  beyond  the  Jordan,  where 
Bheth.  YiQ  had  been  since  his  early  flight.  He  must 
have  been  still  a youth,  but  was  married  and  had  an 
only  son.  He  came  bearing  with  him  the  perpetual 
marks  -of  the  disastrous  day  of  his  escape.  It  would 
almost  seem  as  if  David  had  heard  of  him  as  a child 
from  his  beloved  Jonathan.  Feeble  in  body,  broken  in 
spirit,  the  exiled  prince  entered  and  fell  on  his  face 
before  the  occupant  of  what  might  have  been  his  flither’s 
throne  ; and  David  said,  “ Mephibosheth.”  And  he  said, 
‘^Behold  thy  slave.”  At  David’s  table  he  was  main- 
tained, and  through  him  and  his  son  were  probably  pre- 
served the  traditions  of  the  friendship  of  his  father  and 
his  benefactor.  His  loyalty  remained  unshaken,  though 
much  contested  both  at  the  time  and  afterwards ; and 
we  part  from  him  on  the  banks  of  the  Jordan,  where 
with  all  the  signs  of  Eastern  grief  he  met  David  on  his 

I 2 Sam.  xxi.  11  (LXX.). 


2 2 Sam.  ix.  2. 


Lkct.  XXI. 


SYMPATHY  FOR  ITS  FALL. 


39 


return  from  the  defeat  of  Absalom.^  Two  othei  descend 
ants  of  the  house  of  Saul  appear  in  the  court  of  David. 
A son  ^ of  Abner  was  allowed  the  first  place  in  the  tribe 
of  Benjamin.  A powerful  ^ chief  of  the  family  lived  to 
a great  old  age  on  the  borders  of  the  tribe  till  the  reign 
of  Solomon.  It  is  just  possible  that  in  the  attempt  of 
the  usurper  Zimri  there  is  one  last  effort  of  the  de^ 
scendants  of  Jonathan  to  gain  the  throne  of  Israel.^ 

So  closed  the  dynasty  of  Saul.  It  will  have  been 
observed  how  tender  is  the  interest  cherished 
towards  it  throughout  all  these  scattered  no- 
tices in  the  sacred  narrative,  — a striking  proof  of  the 
contrast  between  our  timid  anxiety  and  the  fearless 
human  sympathy  of  the  Biblical  writers.  In  later  ages, 
it  has  often  been  the  custom  to  be  wise  and  severe 
above  that  which  is  written,  and  in  the  desire  of  exalt- 
ing David  to  darken  ^ the  character  of  Saul  and  his  fam- 
ily. In  this  respect  we  have  fallen  behind  the  keener 
discrimination  which  appeared  in  his  own  countiymen. 
Even  when  Abner  fell,  and  bj^  his  fall  secured  the 
throne  to  David,  this  generous  feeling  expresses  itself 
alike  in  the  narrative  and  in  David  himself  ^^They 
buried  Abner  in  Hebron : and  the  king  lifted  up  his 
voice,  and  wept  at  the  grave  of  Abner;  and  all  the 
people  wept,  and  the  king  lamented  over  Abner.  ^ Died 
^ Abner  as  Nabal  died  ? ’ and  all  the  people  wept  again 
over  him.”  Such,  too,  is  the  spirit  of  the  stern  rebuke 
to  the  slayer  of  Saul,  and  to  the  murderers  of  Ish-bo- 
sheth.  Such  is  the  deep  pathos  which  runs  through 

1 See  Lecture  XXIV.  ® Even  S.  Bernard  thought  that 

2 1 Chr.  xxvii.  2.  Saul  and  Jonathan  were  botli  lost  for- 

S 2 Sam.  xvi.  5,  &c. ; 1 Kings  il.  ever.  See  Morrison,  Life  of  S.  Ber 

86,  &c.  See  Lecture  XXVI.  nard,  p.  270. 

4 1 Kings  xvl.  9-20.  Compare  1 
Chr.  ix.  42.  See  Lecture  XXX. 


40 


THE  HOUSE  OF  SAUL. 


Lect.  XXI 


tlie  dark  story  of  Rizpah,  the  daughter  of  Aiah.  Such, 
too,  was  the  Jewish  tradition  which  regarded  the  mis- 
fortunes of  David’s  descendants  as  a judgment  on  the 
somewhat  unequal  measure  with  which  he  requited  the 
gratitude  of  Mephibosheth  and  the  friendship  of  Jona- 
than. ^^At  the  same  moment  that  David  said  to  Me- 
phibosheth,  Thou  and  Ziba  shall  divide  the  land ; the 
voice  of  Divine  Providence  said,  Rehohoam  and  Jero- 
boam  shall  divide  the  kingdom : ” ^ and  even  if  tne 
sacred  writer  believed  in  the  treason  of  Mephibosheth, 
there  is  no  word  to  tell  us  so ; his  crime,  if  there  were 
a crime,  is  left,  shrouded  under  the  shade  which  sym- 
pathy for  the  fallen  dynasty  has  cast  over  it. 

This  tender  sentiment  appears  in  the  highest  degree 
towards  Saul  himself  Josephus  did  not  feel  that  he 
was  failing  in  reverence  to  David,  by  breaking  forth  into 
enthusiastic  admiration  ^ of  the  patriotic  devotion  with 
which  Saul  rushed  to  meet  his  end.  And  still  more 
remarkably  is  this  feeling  exemplified  in  David’s  lamen- 
tation after  the  battle  of  Gilboa.  Its  instruction  rises 
beyond  the  special  occasion. 

Saul  had  fallen  with  all  his  sins  upon  his  head,  fallen 
David’s  la-  bittemess  of  despair,  and,  as  it  might 

sau/amr  kave  Seemed  to  mortal  eye,  under  the  shadow 
Jonathan.  curso  of  God.  But  not  only  is  there  in 

David’s  lament  no  revengeful  feeling  at  the  death  of 
his  persecutor,  such  as  that  in  which  even  Christian 
saints  have  indulged  from  the  days  of  Lactantius  down 
to  the  days  of  the  Covenanters  ; not  only  is  there  noue 
of  that  bitter  feeling  which  in  more  peaceful  times  so 
often  turns  the  heart  of  a successor  against  his  prede 
cessor;  luit  he  dwells  with  unmixed  love  on  the  brightei 

^ Quoted  by  Ligbtfoot,  Sermon  on  ^ Ant.  vi.  14,  § 4. 

2 Sam.  xix.  29. 


Lect.  XXI. 


SYMPATHY  FOR  ITS  FALL. 


<11 


recollections  of  the  departed.  He  speaks  only  of  the 
Saul  of  earlier  times,  — the  mighty  conqueror,  the  de* 
light  of  his  people,  the  father  of  his  beloved  and  faith- 
ful friend ; like  him  in  life,  united  with  him  in  death. 

Such  expressions,  indeed,  cannot  be  taken  as  delib- 
erate judgments  on  the  characters  of  Saul  or  of  his 
family.  But  they  may  fairly  be  taken  as  justifying  the 
irrepressible  instinct  of  humanity  which  compels  us  to  ' 
dwell  on  the  best  qualities  of  those  who  have  but  just 
departed,  and  which  has  found  its  way  into  all  funeral 
services  of  the  Christian  Church,  of  our  own  amongst 
the  rest.  They  represent,  and  they  have,  by  a fitting 
application,  been  themselves  made  to  express,  the  feel- 
ings with  which  in  all  ages  of  Christendom  the  remains 
of  the  illustrious  dead,  whether  in  peace  or  war,  of 
characters  however  far  removed  from  jDerfection,  have 
been  committed  to  the  grave.  It  is  not  only  a quota- 
tion, but  an  unconscious  vindication  of  our  own  better 
feelings,  when  over  the  portal  of  the  sepulchral  chapel  ^ 
of  the  most  famous  of  medimval  heroes  we  find  in- 
scribed the  words  of  David : How  are  the  mighty 

fallen,  and  the  weapons  of  war  j^erished  ! ” Qiiomodo 
cedderiint  robusti^  et  peiderunt  arma  hellica ! It  was  not 
only  an  adaptation,  but  a repetition,  of  the  original 
feeling  of  . David,  w^hen  we  ourselves  heard  the  dirge  of 
Abner,  sung  over  the  grave  of  the  hero  of  our  own 
age : The  king  himself  followed  the  bier ; and  the 

^^king  said  unto  his  servants,  Know  ye  not  that  there 
is  a prince  and  a great  man  fallen  this  day  in  Israel  ? 
Fitly  has  this  special  portion  of  the  sacred  narrative 
been  made  the  foundation  of  those  solemn  strains  of 
funeral  music  which  will  forever  associate  the  Dead 
March  of  such  celebrations  with  the  name  of  Saul.  ^ 

1 Tomb  of  the  Cid  near  Burgos. 


42  THE  HOUSE  OF  SAUL.  Lect.  XXI 

And  the  probable  mode  of  the  preservation  of  David’s 
elegy  adds  another  stroke  of  pathos  to  the  elegy  itself. 
Jonathan  was,  as  we  have  seen,  distinguished  as  the 
mighty  Archer  of  the  Archer  tribe.  To  introduce  this 
favorite  weapon  of  his  friend  into  his  own  less  apt 
trilrn  of  Judah,  was  David’s  tribute  to  Jonathan’s  mem- 
ory. ^^He  bade  them  teoxh  the  children  of  Judah 
the  bow,”  and  whilst  they  were  so  taught,  they  sang 
( so  we  must  infer  from  the  context ) the  song  of  the 
bow,”  — the  bow  which  never  turned  back  from  the 
slain.”  By  those  young  soldiers  of  Judah  this  song 
was  handed  on  from  generation  to  generation,  till  it 
landed  safe  at  last  in  the  sacred  books,  to  be  enshrined 
forever  as  the  monument  of  the  friendship  of  David 
and  Jonathan.  Let  us  listen  to  it  as  it  was  then  re- 
peated by  the  archers  of  the  Israelite  army. 

The  wild  roe,^  0 Israel,  on  thy  high  places  is  slain : 

How  are  the  mighty  fallen ! 

Tell  ye  it  not  in  Gath,  proclaim  it  not  in  the  streets  of  Ashkelon, 
Lest  there  be  rejoicing  for  the  daughters  of  the  Philistines, 

Lest  there  be  triumph  for  the  daughters  of  the  uncircumcised. 

Ye  mountains  of  Gilboa,  let  there  be  no  dew  nor  rain  upon  you! 

Nor  fields  of  offerings  ; ^ 

For  there  was  the  shield  of  the  mighty  vilely  cast  away  — 

The  shield  of  Saul,  not  anointed  with  oii.^ 

So  David  sang  of  the  battle  on  Crilboa.  Then  came  the 
lament  over  the  two  chiefs,  as  he  knew  them  of  old  iu 
their  conflicts  with  their  huge  unwieldy  foes : 

From  the  blood  of  the  slain,  from  the  fat  of  the  mighty,^ 

The  bow  ^ of  Jonathan  turned  not  back. 

And  the  sword  of  Saul  returned  not  empty. 

Then  the  stream  of  sorrow  divides,  and  he  speaks  of 

4 See  Lecture  XVI.  p.  363,  and 
Lecture  XXII.  p.  60. 

5 See  p.  17 


1 See  p.  11. 

2 See  p.  32. 

3 Ibid. 


Lkct.  XXI. 


LAMENT  OVER  SAUL  AND  JONATHAN. 


43 


each  separately.  First,  he  turns  to  the  Israelite  maid- 
ens, who  of  old  had  welcomed  the  king  back  from  his 
victories,  and  bids  them  mourn  over  the  depth  of  their 
loss. 

Saul  and  Jonathan  were  lovely  and  pleasant  in  their  lives, 

And  in  their  death  they  were  not  divided : 

Than  eagles  they  were  swifter,  than  lions  more  strong.' 

Ye  daughters  of  Israel  weep  for  Saul, 

Wlio  clothed  you  in  scarlet,  with  delights. 

Who  put  ornaments  of  gold  on  your  apparel  ;*  — 

How  are  the  mighty  fallen  in  the  midst  of  the  battle ! 

Then,  as  the  climax  of  the  whole,  the  national  sor- 
row merges  itself  in  the  lament  of  the  friend  for  his 
friend,  of  the  heart  pressed  with  grief  for  the  death  of 
more  than  a friend — a brother;  for  the  love  that  was 
almost  miraculous,^  like  a special  work  of  God. 

0 Jonathan,  on  thy  high  places  thou  wast  slain ! 

1 am  distressed  for  thee,  my  brother  Jonathan. 

Pleasant  hast  thou  been  to  me,  exceedingly ! 

Wonderful  was  thy  love  to  me,  passing  the  love  of  women. 

How  are  the  mighty  fallen ! 

And  perished  the  weapons  of  war ! 

In  the  greatness  and  the  reverse  of  the  house  of 
Saul  is  the  culmination  and  catastrophe  of  the  tribe 
of  Benjamin.  The  Christian  Fathers  used  to  dwell  on 
the  old  prediction  which  describes  the  character  of  that 
tribe, — Benjamin  shall  ravin  as  a wolf : in  the  morning 
^^he  shall  devour  the  prey,  and  in  the  evening  he  shal] 
divide  the  spoil.”  ^ These  words  well  sum  up  the 
strange  union  of  fierceness  and  of  gentleness,  of  sudden 
resolves  for  good  and  evil,  which  run,  as  hereditary 

1 Seep.  17.  3 This  is  the  force  of  the  word 

2 See  p.  22.  translated  “wonderful.” 

* Gen.  xlix.  27 


44 


THE  HOUSE  OF  SAUL. 


Leci.  .'CXI 


qualities  often  do  run,  through  the  whole  history  of 
that  frontier  clan.  Such  were  its  wild  adventures  in 
the  time  of  the  Judges;  such  was  Saul  the  first  king; 
such  was  Shimei,  of  the  house  of  Saul,  in  his  bitterness 
and  his  repentance ; such  was  the  divided  allegiance  of 
the  tribe  to  the  rival  houses  of  Judah  and  Ephraim; 
such  was  the  union  of  tenderness  and  vindictiveness  in 
the  characters  of  Mordecai  and  Esther,  — if  not  actual 
descendants  of  Shimei  and  Kish,  as  they  appear  in  the 
history  of  Saul,  at  least  claiming  to  be  of  the  same 
tribe,  and  reckoning  amongst  the  list  of  their  ancestors 
the  same  renowned  names.^ 

And  is  it  a mere  fancy  to  trace  with  those  same 
Christian  writers  the  last  faint  likeness  of  this  mixed 
history,  when,  after  a lapse  of  many  centuries,  the  tribe 
once  more  for  a moment  rises  to  our  view  — in  the  sec- 
ond Saul,  also  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin?^  — Saul  of 
Saul  of  Tarsus,  who,  like  the  first,  was  at  one  time 
Tarsus.  moved  by  a zeal  not  according  to  knowledge, 
with  a fury  bordering  almost  on  frenzy,^ — and  who,  like 
the  first,  startled  all  his  contemporaries  by  appearing 
among  the  Prophets,  the  herald  of  the  faith  which  once 
he  destroyed ; but,  unlike  the  first,  persevered  in  that 
faith  to  the  end,  the  likeness  in  the  Christian  Church, 
not  of  what  Saul  was,  but  of  what  he  might  have  been, 
— the  true  David,  restorer  and  enlarger  of  the  true 
kingdom  of  God  upon  earth. 

1 Esth.  ii.  5 ; viii.  6,  7.  2 Philippians  iii.  5.  3 Acts  xxvi.  IL 


DAVID, 


xxn.  THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 
XXHI.  THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 
XXIV.  THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 
XXV.  THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVIIX 


SPECIAL  AUTHORITIES  FOR  THE  LIFE  OF  DAVID. 


I.  The  original  contemporary  authorities:  — 

1.  The  Davidic  portion  of  the  Psalms,  including  such  fragments  as  are 

preserved  to  us  from  other  sources,  viz.  2 Sam.  i.  19-27,  iii.  33, 
34,  xxii.  1-51,  xxiii.  1-7.1 

2.  The  “Chronicles”  or  “State-papers”  of  David  (1  Chr.  xxvii.  24), 

and  the  original  works  of  Samuel,  Gad,  and  Nathan  (1  Chr. 
xxix.  29).  These  are  lost,  but  portions  of  them  no  doubt  are 
preserved  in  — 

II.  The  narrative  2 of  1 Sam.  xvi.  to  1 Kings  ii.  11;  with  the  supplementary 

notices  contained  in  1 Chr.  xi.  1 to  xxix.  30. 

III.  The  two  slight  notices  in  the  heathen  historians,  Nicolaus  of  Damascus 

in  his  Universal  History  (Josephus,  Ant.  vii.  5,  § 2),  and  Eupolemus 
in  his  History  of  the  Kings  of  Judah  (Eusebius,  Praep.  Ev.  ix.  30). 

IV.  David’s  apocryphal  writings,  contained  in  Fabriclus,  Codex  Pseudepig~ 

raphus  Vet,  Test.  905,  1000-1005:  — (1)  Ps.  cli.,  on  his  victory  over 
Goliath.  (2)  Colloquies  with  God,  (a)  on  madness,  (b)  on  his  tempta- 
tion, and  (c)  on  the  building  of  the  Temple.  (3)  A charm  against 
fire. 

V.  The  Jewish  traditions,  which  may  be  divided  into  three  classes. — 

1.  Those  embodied  by  Josephus,  Ant.  vi.  8 to  vii.  15. 

2.  Those  preserved  in  the  Qucestiones  Hehraicce  in  Libros  Regum  et  Par~ 

alipomenon.,  attributed  to  Jerome. 

3.  The  Rabbinical  traditions  in  the  Seder  Olam,  chap,  xlii.,  xiv.,  and  in 

the  comments  thereon,  collected  by  Meyer,  452-622;  also  those 
in  Calmet’s  Dictionary.,  under  “ David.” 

VI.  The  Mussulman  traditions  are  contained  in  the  Koran,  ii.  250-252,  xxi. 

80,  xxii.  15,  xxxiv.  10,  xxxvili.  16-24,  and  explained  in  Lane’s  Selec- 
tions from  the  Kuran,  226-242;  or  amplified  in  Weil’s  Biblical  Le- 
gends^ Eng.  Tr.  152-170. 

1 The  Davidic  titles  of  the  Psalms  repre-  tionably  David’s,  or  of  David’s  time,  are 
sent  the  Jewish  tradition  respecting  them;  Psalms  ii.,  iii.,  iv.,  vii.,  viii.,  xi.,  xv.,  xviii., 
they  are  affixed  to  Psalms  iii.  — ix..  xi.  — xix  , xx..  xxiv.,  xxix.,  xxxii.,  ci.,  cx. 
xxxii.,  xxxiv.  — xli.,  li.  — Ixv.,  Ixviii. — 2 Whether  these  are  works  by  those 

Ixx.,  Ixxii.,  Ixxxvi.,  ci.,  ciii.,  cviii.  — cx.,  prophets,  or  respecting  them,  is  doubtful, 
cxxii.,  cxxiv.,  cxxxi.,  cxxxiii.,  cxxxviii.  See  Mr.  Twisleton’s  article  on  the  Books 
— cxiv.  Those  which  Ewald  (in  the  Dichter  of  Samuel,  in  the  Dictionary  of  the  Bible, 
ies  alien  Bundes)  pronounces  to  be  imques- 


LECTURE  XXIL 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


The  Psalms  which,  according  to  their  titles  or  their  contents,  illustnito 
this  period,  are : — 

(1)  For  the  shepherd  life.  Psalms  viii.,  xlx.,  xxiii.,  xxlx.,  cli. 

(2)  For  the  escape.  Psalms  vi.,  vii.,  lix.,  Ivi.,  xxxiv. 

(8)  For  the  wanderings,  Psalms  lii.,  xl.,  liv.,  Ivii.,  Ixili , cxlii.,  XTiii. 


THE  FAIVIILY  OF  JESSE. 


J5  I S^l 


I -a  H 


® .fc 

S ss^ 

d 

II -I- 


4 


O o. 


m 


a §. 


_® 

ol«“ 


“Mlood  I 

O.^  H 

-I 

I 


■tUi^- 


o 

.d  -fl 

Mcj 

■Sc"_'3 

®ll  I 


o 

’’  9 "S 


-§ 

■g^ia 

,0(M  « 


13 


!cyrH.- 


g a ;:■ 


«r-o  • 


1.J 

® ^ 5 M *> 

•-S  ^:s  M rH  « 


-|a 

SI 


as=, 


* Sae  Burrineton’s  Genealogies,  Table  XI.  The  LXX.  makes  Mahalath  (2  Chr.  xi.  18)  the  daughter  of  Jerimoth  and  Abihatl 


I 


DAVID. 


LECTURE  XXII. 

THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 

Of  aU  the  characters  in  the  Jewish  history  there  is 
none  so  well  known  to  ns  as  David.  As  in  the  case  of 
Cicero  and  of  Julius  Csesar,  — perhaps  of  no  one  else  in 
ancient  history  before  the  Christian  era,  — we  have  in 
his  case  the  rare  advantage  of  being  able  to  compare  a 
detailed  historical  narrative  with  the  undoubtedly  au- 
thentic writings  of  the  person  with  whom  the  narrative 
is  concerned. 

We  have  already  seen  the  family  circle  of  Saul.  That 
of  David  is  known  to  us  on  a more  extended  Family  of 
scale,  and  with  a more  direct  bearing  on  his 
subsequent  career. 

His  father  Jesse  was  probably,  like  his  ancestor  Boaz, 
the  chief  man  of  the  place  — the  Sheikh  of 
the  village.^  He  was  of  great  age  when  David 
was  still  young,^  and  was  still  alive  after  his  final  rupt- 
ure with  Saul.^  Through  this  ancestry  David  inher- 
ited several  marked  peculiarities.  There  was  a mixture 
of  Canaanitish  and  Moabitish  blood  in  the  family,  which 
may  not  have  been  without  its  use  in  keeping  open  a 
wider  view  in  his  mind  and  history  than  if  he  had  been 

* Comp.  Ruth  ii.  1 ; 1 Sam.  xx.  6.  3 Ibid.  xxii.  3.. 

1 Sam.  xvii.  12. 


▼OT.  11. 


4 


50 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID 


Lect.  XXII 


of  purely  Jewish  descent J His  connection  with  Moab 
through  his  great-grandmother  Ruth  he  kept  up  when 
he  escaped  to  Moab  and  intrusted  his  aged  parents  to 
the  care  of  the  king.^ 

He  was  also,  to  a degree  unusual  in  the  Jewish  rec- 
ords, attached  to  his  birthplace.  He  never 
Bethlehem,  flavor  of  the  Water  of  the  well  of 

Bethlehem.^  From  the  territory  of  Bethlehem,  as  from 
his  own  patrimony,  he  gave  a property  as  a reward  to 
Chimham,  son  of  Barzillai ; ^ and  it  is  this  connection 
of  David  with  Bethlehem  that  brought  the  place  again 
in  later  times  into  universal  fame,  when  Joseph  went 
‘^up  to  Bethlehem,  because  he  was  of  the  house  and 
‘^lineage  of  David.” ^ Through  his  birthplace  he  ac- 
quired that  hold  over  the  tribe  of  Judah  which  as- 
sured his  security  amongst  the  hills  of  Judah  during 
his  flight  from  Saul,  and  during  the  early  period  of  his 
reign  at  Hebron ; as  afterwards  at  the  time  of  Absalom 
it  provoked  the  jealousy  of  the  tribe  at  having  lost 
their  exclusive  possession  of  him.  The  Mussulman  tra- 
ditions represent  him  as  skilled  in  making  hair-cloths 
and  sack-cloths,  which,  according  to  the  Targum,  was 
the  special  occupation  of  Jesse,  which  Jesse  may  in  turn 
have  derived  from  his  ancestor  Hur,  the  first  founder,  as 
was  believed,  of  the  town,  - — the  father  of  Bethlehem.”  ® 

The  origin  and  name  of  his  mother  is  wrapt  ^ in  mys- 
Mother  of  tery.  It  would  seem  almost  as  if  she  had  been 
Dav-A.  wife  or  concubine  ® of  Nahash,  and  then 

1 Such  is  probably  the  design  of  and  articles  on  Bethlehem  and 

the  express  mention  of  Rahab  and  Jaare-oregim,  in  Diet,  of  Bible. 
Ruth  in  the  genealogy  in  Matt.  i.  5.  ^ Zeruiah  and  Abigail,  though  called 

2 1 Sam.  xxii.  3.  in  1 Chr.  ii.  16  sisters  of  David,  are 

3 \ Chr.  xi.  17.  not  expressly  called  the  daughters  of 

4 2 Sam.  xix.  37,  38 ; Jer.  xli.  17.  Jesse;  and  Abigail,  In  2 Sam.  xvii. 

5 Luke  ii.  4.  25,  is  called  the  daughter  of  Nahash. 

* See  Exod.  xxxi.  2 ; 1 Chr.  iv.  5 ; • The  later  rabbis  represent  David 


Lkct.  XXII. 


ms  FAMILY. 


51 


married  by  Jesse.  Tliis  would  agree  with  the  lact,  that 
her  daughters,  Da\dd’s  sisters,  were  older  than  the  rest 
of  the  family,  and  also  (if  Nahash  was  the  same  as  the 
king  of  Ammon)  with  the  kindnesses  which  David  re- 
ceived first  from  Nahash,  and  then  from  Shobi  his  son.^ 
As  the  youngest  of  the  family  he  may  possibly  have 
received  from  his  parents  the  name,  which  first  Hisbroth- 
appears  in  him,  of  Davidf  the  beloved^  the  darling,  nephews. 
But,  perhaps  for  this  same  reason,  he  was  never  intimate 
with  his  brothers.  The  eldest,  whose  command  was  re- 
garded in  the  family  as  law,^  and  who  was  afterwards 
made  by  David  head  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,^  treated  him 
scornfully  and  imperiously ; and  the  father  looked  upon 
the  youngest  son  as  hardly  one  of  the  family  at  all,  and 
as  a mere  attendant  on  the  rest.^  The  familiarity  which 
he  lost  with  his  brothers,  he  gained  with  his  nephews. 
The  three  sons  of  his  sister  Zeruiah,  and  the  one  son  of 
his  sister  Abigail,  seemingly  from  the  fact  that  their 
mothers  were  the  eldest  of  the  whole  family,  must  have 
been  nearly  of  the  same  age  as  David  himself,  and  they 
accordingly  were  to  him  throughout  life  in  the  relation 


born  in  adultery.  This  is  proba- 
bly a coarse  inference  from  Ps.  li.  5 ; 
but  it  may  possibly  have  reference  to 
a tradition  of  the  above.  On  the 
other  hand,  in  the  earlier  rabbis  we 
have  an  attempt  to  establish  an  “ im- 
maculate conception  ” in  the  ancestry 
of  their  favorite  King.  They  make 
Nahash  — “ the  serpent  ” • — to  be  an- 
other name  of  Jesse,  because  he  had 
no  sin  except  that  contracted  from 
the  original  serpent;  and  thus  David 
inherited  none.  (Jerome,  Qu.  Heh. 
on  2 Sam.  xvii.  26,  and  Targum  to 
Ruth  iv.  22.) 

1  2 Sam.  X.  1 ; 1 Chr.  xix.  1 ; 2 


Sam.  xvii.  27.  Nahash  in  LXX.,  2 
Sam.  xvii.  25,  is  brother  of  Zeruiah; 
Nahash  king  of  Ammon  was  grand- 
father of  Rehoboam’s  mother,  Naamah 
(LXX.  1 Kings  xii.  24,  ^.  e.  xiv.  31 
Hebr.). 

2 The  name  is  given  in  its  shorter 
Hebrew^  form  in  the  earlier  books  of 
the  Old  Testament,  In  its  longer  form 
in  the  later  books,  as  also  in  Hosea, 
Amos,  Canticles,  and  1 Kings  ili.  14. 
The  same  word  in  another  form  ap- 
pears in  the  Phcenician  Dido 

3 1 Sam.  xvii.  28 ; xx.  29. 

4 1 Chr.  xxvli,  18  (LXX.) 

5 1 Sam.  xvi.  11 ; xvii.  17 


52- 


THE  YOUTH  OF  HAVIl). 


Lect.  XXII 


usually  occupied  by  brothers  and  cousins.  The  family 
burial-place  of  this  second  branch  was  at  Bethlehem.^ 
In  most  of  them  we  see  only  the  rougher  qualities  of 
the  family,  which  David  shared  with  them,  whilst  he 
was  distinguished  from  them  by  qualities  of-  his  own, 
peculiar  to  himself  Two  of  them,  the  sons  of  his 
brother  Shimeah,  are  celebrated  for  the  gift  of  sagacity 
in  which  David  excelled.  One  was  Jonadab,  the  friend 
and  adviser  of  his  eldest  son  Amnon.^  The  other  was 
Jonathan,^  who  afterwards  became  the  counsellor  of 
David  himself 

The  first  time  that  David  appears  in  history,  at  once 
admits  us  to  the  whole  family  circle.  There  was  a 
practice  once  a year  at  Bethlehem,  probably  at  the  first 
new  moon,  of  holding  a sacrificial  feast,^  at  which  Jesse, 
as  the  chief  proprietor  of  the  place,  would  preside,  with 
the  elders  of  the  town,  and  from  which  no  member  of 
the  family  ought  to  be  absent.  At  this  or  such  like 
feast  ^ suddenly  appeared  the  grQat  Prophet  Samuel, 
driving  a heifer  before  him,  and  having  in  his  hand  his 
long  horn  filled  with  the  consecrated  oil  ® preserved  in 
the  Tabernacle  at  Nob.  The  elders  of  the  little  town 
were  terrified  at  this  apparition,  but  were  reassured  by 
the  august  visitor,  and  invited  by  him  to  the  ceremony 
of  sacrificing  the  heifer.  The  heifer  was  killed.  The 
party  were  waiting  to  begin  the  feast.  Samuel  stood 
with  his  horn  to  pour  forth  the  oil,  which  seems  to 
have  been  the  usual  mode  of  invitation  to  begin  a feast.’ 
He  was  restrained  by  a Divine  control  as  son  after  son 
passed  by.  Eliab,  the  eldest,  by  his  ^^leight”  and  his 

1 2 Sam.  ii.  32.  5 Jbjd.  xvl.  1-3. 

2 Ibid.  xili.  3.  6 “ The  oil ibid.  13,  and  so  Jo- 

3 Ibid.  xxi.  21  ; 1 Chr.  xxvii.  32.  seph.  Ant.  vi.  8,  § 1. 

^ 1 Sam.  XX.  6.  Comp.  1 Sam.  ix.  IJ,  22. 


Lkct.  XXII. 


HIS  CALL. 


53 


countenance,”  seemed  the  natural  counterpart  of  Saul, 
whose  successor  the  Prophet  came  to  select.  But  the 
day  was  gone  when  kings  were  chosen  because  they 
were  head  and  shoulders  taller  than  the  rest.  Samuel 
^^said  unto  Jesse,  Are  these  all  thy  children?  And  he 
said.  There  remaineth  yet  the  youngest,  and  behold  he 
^^keepeth  the  sheep.” 

This  is  our  first  introduction  to  the  future  king. 
From  the  sheepfolds  on  the  hill -side  the  boy  was 
brought  in.  He  took  his  place  at  the  village  feast, 
when,  with  a silent  gesture,  perhaps  with  a secret 
whisper  ^ into  his  ear,  the  sacred  oil  was  poured  by  the 
Prophet  over  his  head.  We  are  enabled  to  fix  his  ap- 
pearance at  once  in  our  minds.  It  is  implied  that  he 
was  of  short  stature,  thus  contrasting  with  his  tall 
brother  Eliab,  with  his  rival  Saul,  and  with  his  gigantic 
enemy  of  Gath.  He  had  red^  or  auburn  hair,  such  as 
is  not  unfrequently  seen  in  his  countrymen  of  the 
East  at  the  present  day.  His  bright  eyes  ® are  especially 
mentioned,  and  generally  he  was  remarkable  for  the 
grace  of  his  figure  and  countenance,  (^^fair  of  eyes,” 
comely,”^  goodly,”)  well  made,  and  of  immense 
strength  and  agility.  In  swiftness  and  activity  (like 
his  nephew  Asahel)  he  could  only  be  compared  to  a 
wild  gazelle,  with  feet  like  harts’  feet,  with  arms  strong 
enough  to  break  a bow  of  steel.^  He  was  pursuing  the 
occupation  usually  allotted  in  Eastern  countries  to  the 

1 Joseph.  Ant.  vi.  8,  § 1.  makes  it  his  tawn}' complexion 

2 1 Sam.  xvi.  12,  xvii.  42.  “ Rud-  r^v  xpoav'). 

dy”  = red-haired;  nvj!)j!)aK7jg,  LXX. ; 3 i Sam.  xvi.  12  (Heb.)  : yopyH 

rufus,  Vulg.  : the  same  word  as  for  tux  oipEi^,  “fierce,  quick,”  (Jos.  Ant 
Esau,  Gen.  xxv.  25.  The  rabbis  vi.  8,  § 1). 

(probably  from  this)  say  that  he  was  * 1 Sam.  xvi.  18,  same  word  as  f(M 
like  Esau.  Josephus  (Ant.  vi.  8,  § 1)  Rachel,  Gen.  xxix.  17. 

® Ps.  xviii.  33,  34. 


64 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXII 


slaves,  the  females,  or  the  despised  of  the  family.^  He 
carried  a switch  or  wand  ^ in  his  hand,  such  as  would  be 
used  for  his  dogs,^  and  a scrip  or  wallet  round  his  neck, 
to  carry  anything  that  was  needed  for  his  shepherd’s 
life,  and  a sling  to  ward  off  beasts  or  birds  of  prey. 

Such  was  the  outer  life  of  David,  when  he  was  ‘Haken 
“ from  the  sheepfolds,  from  following  the  ewes  great  with 
young,  to  feed  Israel  according  to  the  integrity  of  his 
^Hieart,  and  to  guide  them  by  the  skilfulness  of  his 
hands.”  ^ The  recollection  of  the  sudden  elevation 
from  this  humble  station  is  deeply  impressed  on  his 
after-life.  It  is  one  of  those  surprises  which  are  capti- 
vating even  in  common  history,  but  on  which  the  sacred 
writers  dwell  with  peculiar  zest,  and  which  makes  the 
sacred  history  a focus  of  disturbing,  even  revolutionary, 
aspirations,  in  the  midst  of  the  commonplace  tenor  of 
ordinary  life.  The  man  who  was  raised  up  on  high.” 
^^I  have  exalted  one  chosen  out  of  the  people.”  “1 
took  thee  from  the  sheepcote.”  ® It  is  the  prelude 
of  simple  innocence  which  stands  out  in  such  marked 
contrast  to  the  vast  and  checkered  career  which  is  to 
follow. 

Latest  born  of  Jesse’s  race, 

Wonder  lights  thy  bashful  face, 

Wliile  the  Prophet’s  gifted  oil 
Seals  thee  for  a path  of  toil  . . . 

Go  ! and  mid  thy  flocks  awhile. 

At  thy  doom  of  greatness  smile  ; 

Bold  to  bear  God’s  heaviest  load. 

Dimly  guessing  at  the  road  — 

1 Comp,  the  oases  of  Moses,  Jacob,  3 Ibid.  xvli.  43. 

Zipporah,  and  Rachel,  and  in  later  ^ l>g,  Ixxviii.  71,  72. 

times  Mahomet  (Sprenger,  p.  8).  5 2 Sara,  xxiii.  1;  Ps.  Ixxxix.  19 

2 1 Sam.  xvii.  40.  The  same  word  2 Sara.  vii.  8. 

IS  is  used  in  Gen.  xxx.  37 ; Jer.  i.  11 ; 

Hos.  iv.  12. 


Liter.  XXII. 


HIS  MINSTRELSY. 


66 


Rocky  road,  and  scarce  ascended, 

Though  thy  foot  be  angel-tended. 

Double  praise  thou  shalt  attain 
In  royal  court  and  battle-plain. 

Then  comes  heart-ache,  care,  distress, 

Blighted  hope,  and  loneliness ; 

Wounds  from  friend  and  gifts  from  foe, 

Dizzied  faith,  and  gilt,  and  woe ; 

Loftiest  aims  by  earth  defiled. 

Gleams  of  wisdom,  sin-beguiled, 

Sated  power’s  tyrannic  mood. 

Counsels  shar’d  with  men  of  blood. 

Sad  success,  parental  tears. 

And  a dreary  gift  of  years. 

Strange  that  guileless  face  and  form 
To  lavish  on  the  scathing  storm ! . . . 

Little  chary  of  thy  fame. 

Dust  unborn  may  praise  or  blame. 

But  we  mould  thee  for  the  root 
Of  man’s  promis’d  healing  fruit.^ 

But  abrupt  as  the  change  seemed,  there  were  qual- 
ities and  experiences  nursed  even  in  those  pastoral 
cares  that  acted  unconsciously  as  an  education  for 
David’s  future  career. 

The  scene  of  his  pastoral  life  was  doubtless  that  wide 
undulation  of  hill  and  vale  round  the  village  of  jjis  shep- 
Bethlehem,  which  reaches  to  the  very  edge  of 
the  desert  of  the  Dead  Sea.  There  stood  the  Tower 
^^of  Shepherds.”^  There  dwelt  the  herdsman  Prophet 
Amos  ’ There,  in  later  centuries,  shepherds  were  still 

watching  over  their  flocks  by  night.”  ^ 

Amidst  those  free  open  uplands  his  solitary  wander- 
ing life  had  enabled  him  to  cultivate  the  gift 
of  song  and  music  which  he  had  apparently  ^ minstrelsy. 

1 Lyra  Apostolica,  Ivii.  4 Luke  ii.  8. 

2 Gen.  XXXV.  21,  E:lar.  5 \ Sam.  xvi.  18  ; xix.  18-20.  Seo 

3 Amos  i.  1.  Lecture  XVllI. 


56 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIL 


learned  in  the  schools  of  Samuel,  where  possibly  the 
aged  Prophet  may  have  first  seen  him.  And,  accord- 
ingly, when  the  body-guard  of  Saul  were  discussing 
with  their  master  where  the  best  minstrel  could  be 
found  to  drive  away  his  madness  by  music,  one  of  them, 
by  tradition  the  keeper  of  the  royal  mules,  suggested 
a son  of  Jesse  the  Bethlehemite.”  And  when  Saul, 
with  the  absolute  control  inherent  in  the  idea  of  an 
Oriental  monarch,  demanded  his  services,  the  youth 
came  in  all  the  simplicity  of  his  shepherd  life,  driving 
before  him  an  ass  laden  with  bread,  with  a skin  of  wine 
and  a kid,  the  natural  produce  of  the  well-known  vines, 
and  cornfields,  and  pastures  of  Bethlehem.  How  far 
that  shepherd  life  actually  produced  any  of  the  existing 
Psalms  may  be  questioned.  But  it  can  hardly  be 
doubted  that  it  suggested  some  of  their  most  peculiar 
imagery.  The  twenty-third  Psalm,  the  first  direct  ex- 
pression of  the  religious  idea  of  a shepherd,  afterwards 
to  take  so  deep  a root  in  the  heart  of  Christendom,  can 
hardly  be  parted  from  this  epoch.  As  afterwards  in  its 
well-known  paraphrase  by  Addison^ — who  found  in 
it,  throughout  life,  the  best  expression  of  his  own  devo- 
tions — we  seem  to  trace  the  poet’s  allusion  to  his 
own  personal  dangers  and  escapes  in  his  Alpine  and 
Italian  journeys,  so  the  imagery  in  which  the  Psalmist 
describes  his  dependence  on  the  shepherd-like  provi- 
dence of  God  must  be  derived  from  the  remembrance 
of  his  own  crook  and  staff,  from  some  green  oasis  or 
running  stream  in  the  wild  hills  of  Judea,  from  some 
happy  feast  spread  with  flowing  oil  and  festive  wine 
beneath  the  rocks,  at  the  mouth  of  some  deep  and  gloomy 
ravine,  like  those  which  look  down  through  the  cliffs 


>■  Macaulay’s  Essay  on  Addison^  Edinh.  Rev.  Ixxviii.  p.  203,  211,  259. 


Leoi  XXII 


HIS  MARTIAL  EXPLOITS. 


57 


overhanging  the  Dead  Sead  And  to  this  period,  too, 
may  best  be  referred  the  first  burst  of  delight  in  natural 
beauty  that  sacred  literature  contains.  Many  a time 
the  young  shepherd  must  have  had  the  leisure  to  gaze 
in  wonder  on  the  moonlit  ^ and  starlit  sky,  on  the  splen- 
dor of  the  rising  sun  ^ rushing  like  a bridegroom  out  of 
his  canopy  of  clouds ; on  the  terrors  of  the  storm,  with 
its  long  rolling  peals  of  thunder,^  broken  only  by  the 
dividing  flashes  of  the  forks  of  lightning,  as  of  glowing 
coals  of  fire.  Well  may  the  Mussulman  legends  have 
represented  him  as  understanding  the  language  of  birds, 
as  being  able  to  imitate  the  thunder  of  Heaven,  the  roar 
of  the  lion,  the  notes  of  the  nightingale.^ 

With  these  peacefid  pursuits,  a harder  and  sterner 
training  was  combined.  In  those  early  days,  when  the 
forests  of  southern  Palestine  had  not  been  cleared,  it 
was  the  habit  of  the  wild  animals  which  usually  fre- 
quented the  heights  of  Lebanon  or  the  thickets  of  the 
Jordan,  to  make  incursions  into  the  pastures  of  Judea. 
From  the  Lebanon  at  times  descended  the  bears.® 
From  the  Jordan  ^ ascended  the  lion,  at  that  time  in- 
festing the  whole  of  Western  Asia.  These  creatures, 
though  formidable  to  the  flocks,  could  always  be  kept 
at  bay  by  the  determination  of  the  shepherds.  Some- 
times pits  were  dug  to  catch  them.^  Sometimes  the 
shepherds  of  the  whole  neighborhood  formed  a line 
on  the  hills,  and  joined  in  loud  shouts  to  keep  them  off.® 
Occasionally  a single  shepherd  would  pursue  the  ma- 

1 Ps.  xxlii.  2,  4,  5.  “ The  Hon  and  the  she-bear,”  i.  e.  the 

2 Ps.  viii.  1,  3 (evidently  by  night),  usual  enemies.  Comp,  “the  wolf,” 

3 Ps.  xix.  1-5.  John  x.  12, 

4 Ps.  xxix.  3-9;  xviii.  7-15.  7 Jei-.  xlix.  19;  Zech.  xl.  3. 

5 Koran,  xxi.  9,  xxii.  16.  Weil’s  8 2 Sam.  xxiii,  20;  Ezek.  xix.  4,  8. 

Legends,  p.  151.  9 Is.  xxxi.  4.  Comp.  Herod,  vi.  31. 

• Amos  V.  19;  1 Sam.  xvii.  34, 


58 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


Legt.  XXII 


raiider,  and  tear  away  from  the  jaws  of  the  lion  morsels 
of  the  lost  treasure  — two  legs,  or  a piece  of  an  eard 
Such  feats  as  these  were  those  performed  by  the  youth- 
ful David.  It  was  his  pride  to  pursue  these  savage 
beasts,  and  on  one  occasion  he  had  a desperate  encoun- 
ter at  once  with  a lion  and  a she-bear.  The  lion  had  car- 
ried off  a lamb ; he  pursued  the  invader,  struck  him, 
with  the  boldness  of  an  Arab  shepherd,^  with  his  staff 
or  switch,  and  forced  the  lamb  out  of  his  jaws.  The 
lion  turned  upon  the  boy,  who  struck  him  again,  caught 
him  by  the  mane  or  the  throat,^  or,  according  to  an- 
other version,  by  the  tail,^  and  succeeded  in  destroying 
him.  The  story  grew  as  years  rolled  on,  and  it  was 
described  in  the  language  of  Eastern  ® poetry  how  he 
played  with  lions  as  with  kids,  and  with  bears  as  with 
lambs. 

These  encounters  developed  that  daring  courage 
His  martial  whicli  already  in  these  early  years  had  dis- 
expioits.  played  itself  against  the  enemies  of  his  coun- 
try. For  such  exploits  as  these  he  was,  according  to 
one  version  of  his  life,  already  known  to  Saul’s  guards ; 
and,  according  to  another,  when  he  suddenly  appeared 
in  the  camp,  his  elder  brother  immediately  guessed 
that  he  had  left  the  sheep  in  his  ardor  to  see  the 
battle.^  The  Philistine  garrison  ^ fixed  in  Bethlehem 
may  have  naturally  fired  the  boy’s  warlike  spirit,  and 
his  knowledge  of  the  rocks  and  fastnesses  of  J udea  may 
have  given  him  many  an  advantage  over  them.® 

1 Amos  iii.  12.  5 Ecclus.  xlvii.  3. 

2 See  T\\Q\Q,x\ot,Voyage  de  Levante,,  ® 1 Sam.  xvi.  18,  xvii.  28. 

ii.  13 ; quoted  by  Thenius  on  1 Sam.  2 Sam.  xxiii.  14. 

svii.  35.  ® 'I'liere  is  no  satisfaetory  method 

3 Joseph.  Ant.  vl.  9,  § 3.  of*  reconciling  the  contradictory  ac- 

4 LXX.  1 Sam.  xvii.  35  tpapvy-  counts  in  1 Sam.  xvi.  14-23,  and  xvii. 

yof).  12-31,  55-58.  The  first  states  that 


- Lect:  xxil 


GOLIATH  OF  GATH 


59 


Through  this  aspect  of  his  early  youth,  he  is  grad- 
ually thrust  forward  into  eminence.  The  scene  The  battle 

1*11  111  Ephes- 

of  the  battle  which  the  young  shepherd  came  dammim. 
^Ho  see”  was  in  a ravine  in  the  frontier-hills  of  Judah, 
called  probably  from  this  or  similar  encounters  Ephes- 
dammim,  ^Hhe  bound  of  blood.”  Saul’s  army  is  en- 
camped on  one  side  of  the  ravine,  the  Philistines  on 
the  other.  A dry  watercourse  marked  by  a spreading 
terebinth  runs  between  them.  A Philistine  ^ of  gigan- 
tic stature  insults  the  whole  Israelite  army.  He  is 
clothed  in  the  complete  armor  for  which  his  nation 


David  was  made  known  to  Saul  and 
became  his  armor-bearer  in  conse- 
quence of  the  chann  of  his  music  in 
assuaging  the  king’s  melancholy.  The 
second  implies  that  David  was  still  a 
shepherd  with  his  father’s  flocks,  and 
unknown  to  Saul.  The  Vatican  MS. 
of  the  LXX.,  followed  by  Kennicott 
(who  argues  the  question  at  length, 
Dlssv'talion  on  Hehreiv  Text,  418-432, 
554-558),  rejects  the  narrative  in  1 
Sam.  xvii.  12-31,  55-51,  as  spurious. 
But  the  internal  evidence  from  its 
graphic  touches  is  much  in  its  favor, 
and  it  must  at  least  be  accepted  as 
an  ancient  tradition  of  David’s  life. 
Horsley,  but  with  no  external  author- 
ity, transposes  1 Sam.  xvi.  14-23. 
Another  explanation  supposes  that 
Saul  had  forgotten  him.  But  this 
only  solves  half  the  difficulty,  and  is 
evidently  not  the  intention  of  the 
narrative.  It  must  therefore  be  ac- 
cepted as  an  independent  statement 
of  David’s  first  appearance,  modified 
by  the  counter-statement  already  no- 
ticed. 

1 Variations  in  the  common  account 
%re  suggested  by  two  other  passages. 
(1.)  In  2 Sam.  xxi.  19,  it  is  stated 


that  “ Goliath  of  Gath,  the  staff  of 
whose  spear  was  like  a weaver’s 
beam,”  was  killed  (not  by  David, 
but)  by  Elhanan  of  Bethlehem.  This, 
combined  with  the  fact  that  the  Pliil- 
istine  whom  David  slew  is  usually 
nameless,  has  suggested  to  Ewald  (iii. 
91,  92)  the  ingenious  conjecture  that 
the  name  of  Goliath  (which  is  only 
given  thrice  to  David's  enemy,  1 Sam. 
xvii.  4,  23,  xxi.  9)  was  borrowed  from 
the  conflict  of  the  real  Goliath  with 
Elhanan,  whose  Bethlehemite  origin 
has  led  to  the  confusion.  Jerome 
(Qif.  Heh.  ad  loc.')  makes  Elhanan 
the  same  as  David.  But  see  Elha- 
nan in  the  Did.  of  the  Bible.  (2.)  In 
1 Chron.  xi.  12,  Eleazar  (or  more 
probably  Shammah,  2 Sam.  xxlii.  11) 
is  said  to  have  fought  with  Da\dd  at 
Ephes-dammim  against  the  Philistines. 
It  is  of  course  possible  that  the  same 
scene  may  have  witnessed  two  en- 
counters between  Israel  and  the  Phil- 
istines; but  it  may  also  indicate  that 
David’s  first  acquaintance  with  Elea- 
zar, afterwards  one  of  his  chief  cap- 
tains (2  Sam.  xxlii.  9),  was  made  on 
this  memorable  occasion. 


60 


TIIE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXII. 


was  renowned,  which  is  described  piece  by  piece,  as 
if  to  enhance  its  awful  strength,  in  contrast  with  the 
defencelessness  of  the  Israehtes.  No  one  can  be  found 
to  take  up  the  challenge.  The  King  sits  in  his  tent  in 
moody  despair.  Jonathan,  it  seems,  is  absent.  At  this 
juncture  David  appears  in  the  camp,  sent  by  his  father 
with  ten  loaves  and  ten  slices  of  milk-cheese  fresh  from 
the  sheepfolds,  to  his  three  eldest  brothers,  who  were 
there  to  represent  their  father  detained  by  his  extreme 
age.  Just  as  he  comes  to  the  circle  of  wagons  which 
formed,  as  in  Arab  settlements,  a rude  fortification 
round  the  Israelite  camp,^  he  hears  the  well-knowm 
shout  of  the  Israelite  w^ar-cry.  The  shout  of  a king 

is  among  them.”  ^ The  martial  spirit  of  the  boy  is 
stirred  at  the  sound  ; he  leaves  his  provisions  with  the 
baggage-master,  and  darts  to  join  his  brothers  (like  one 
of  the  royal  messengers  into  the  midst  of  the  lines.^ 
There  he  hears  the  challenge,  now  made  for  the  fortieth 
time,  — sees  the  dismay  of  his  countrymen,  — hears 
the  reward  proposed  by  the  king,  — goes  with  the 
impetuosity  of  youth  from  soldier  to  soldier  tadking 
of  the  event,  in  spite  of  his  brother’s  rebuke,  — he  is 
Atroduced  to  Saul,  — he  undertakes  the  combat. 

It  is  an  encounter  which  brings  together  in  one  brief 
space  the  w^hole  contrast  of  the  Philistine  and  Israelite 
w^arfare.  On  the  one  hand  is  the  huge  giant,  of  that 
race  or  family,  as  it  would  seem,  of  giants  which  gave 
to  Gath  a kind  ® of  grotesque  renown  ; such  as  in  David’s 
after-days  still  engaged  the  prowess  of  his  followers,  — 

1 1 Sam.  xvii.  20;  xxvi.  7,  A.  V.  ^ As  in  1 Sam.  iv.  16,  2 Sam.  xviii. 

“trench.”  22. 

2 Comp.  Nuni.  xxiii.  21;  Josh.  vi.  5 Josh.  xi.  22;  2 Sam.  xxi.  20,  22 

5;  Judg.  \\i.  20.  Compare  the  speech  of  Harapba  in 

3 1 Sam.  xvii.  22.  The  same  word  Milton’s  Samson  Agojiistes. 

IS  used  as  in  x.xii.  1 7. 


L*ct.  XXII. 


GOLIATH  OF  GATH. 


61 


monsters  of  strange  appearance,  with  hands  and  feet  of 
disproportionate  development.  He  is  full  of  savage^ 
insolence  and  fury ; unable  to  understand  how  any  one 
could  contend  against  his  brute  strength  and  impreg- 
nable panoply ; the  very  type  of  the  stupid  Philistine,” 
such  as  has  in  the  language  of  modern  Germany  not 
unfitly  identified  the  name  with  the  opponents  of  light 
and  freedom  and  growth.^  On  the  other  hand  is  the 
small  agile  youth,  full  of  spirit  and  faith ; refusing  the 
cumbrous  brazen  helmet,  the  unwieldy  sword  and  shield, 
— so  heavy  that  he  could  not  walk  with  them,  — which 
the  King  had  proffered;  confident  in  the  new^  name 
of  the  Lord  of  Hosts,”  — the  God  of  Battles,  — in  his 
own  shepherd’s  sling,  — and  in  the  five  pebbles  which 
the  watercourse  of  the  valley  had  supplied  as  he  ran 
through  it  on  h s way  to  the  battle.^  A single  stone 
was  enough.  It  penetrated  the  brazen  helmet.  The 
giant  fell  on  his  face,  and  the  Philistine  army  fled  down 
the  pass  and  were  pursued  even  within  the  gates  ^ of 
Ekron  and  Ascalon.  Two  trophies  long  remained  of 
the  battle,  — the  head  and  the  sword  of  the  Philistine. 
Both  were  ultimately  deposited  at  Jerusalem  ; but 
meanwhile  were  hung  up  behind  the  ephod  in  the 
Tabernacle  at  Nob.®  The  Psalter  is  closed  ’ by  a psalm, 
preserved  only  in  the  Septuagint,  which,  though  prob- 

1 According  to  the  Chaldee  Para-  pation  of  the  ultimate  deposition  of 

phrast,  he  declares  himself  the  con-  these  relics  in  his  Sacred  Tent  there, 
queror  and  slayer  of  Hophni  and  2 Sam.  vi.  1 7,  or  a description  of  the 
Phineas.  Tabernacle  at  Nob  close  to  Jerusa- 

2 Philisterei.  lem,  where  the  sword  is  mentioned, 

3 See  Lecture  XXIII.  1 Sam.  xxl.  9. 

* For  the  Mussulman  legend,  see  7 Ps.  cli.  (LXX.)  Ps.  cxliv.,  though 
Weil’s  Legends,  p.  153.  by  its  contents  of  a much  later  date, 

5 1 Sam.  xvii.  53  (LXX.).  is  by  the  title  in  the  LXX.  also 

6 1 Ibid.  xvii.  54.  The  mention  of  “against  Goliath.”  ' 

Jerusalem  may  be  either  an  antici- 


62 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXII 


ably  a mere  adaptation  from  the  history,  well  sums  up 
this  early  period  of  his  life : This  is  the  psalm  of 

‘^David’s  own  writing,  and  outside  the  number,  when 
he  fought  the  single  combat  with  Goliath.”  — I was 
small  amongst  my  brethren,  and  the  youngest  in  my 
father’s  house.  I was  feeding  my  father’s  sheep.  My 
hands  made  a harp,  and  my  fingers  fitted  a psaltery. 

^ And  who  shall  tell  it  to  my  Lord  ? He  is  the  Lord, 
He  heareth.  He  sent  his  messenger  and  took  me  from 
my  father’s  flocks,  and  anointed  me  with  oil  of  His 
anointing.  My  brethren  were  beautiful  and  tall,  but 
the  Lord  was  not  well  pleased  with  them.  I went  out 
to  meet  the  Philistine,  and  he  cursed  me  by  his  idols. 
^^But  I drew  his  own  sword  and  beheaded  him,  and 
took  away  the  reproach  from  the  children  of  Israel.” 

The  victory  over  Goliath  had  bee)i  a turning-point 
His  rise  in  of  David’s  Career.  The  Philistines  henceforth 
regarded  him  as  ^^the  king^  of  the  land”  when 
they  heard  the  triumphant  songs  of  the  IsraeUtish 
women,  which  announced  by  the  vehemence  of  the 
antistrophic  response  ^ that  in  him  Israel  had  now 
found  a deliverer  mightier  even  than  Saul.  And  in 
those  songs,  and  in  the  fame  which  David  thus  ac- 
quired, was  laid  the  foundation  of  that  unhappy  jeal- 
ousy of  Saul  towards  him,  which,  mingling  with  the 
king’s  constitutional  malady,  poisoned  his  whole  future 
relations  to  David. 

It  would  seem  that  David  was  at  first  in  the  humble 
but  confidential  situation  — the  same  in  Israelite  as 
in  Grecian  warfare  — of  armor-bearer.^  He  then  rose 

1 1 Sam.  xxi.  11.  of  Israel,”  but  “the  darling  of  the 

2 Ibid,  xvili.  7 (Heb.).  Of  these  songs  of  Israel.”  See  Fabriclus,  Cod* 
and  of  like  songs,  Bunsen  (Bihelwerl%  Psevdep.  V.  T.  906. 

Pref.  cl.)  interprets  the  expression  in  1 Sam.  xvi.  21  ; xviii.  2. 

2 Sam.  xxii.  1,  not  “the  sweet  singer 


Lect.  XXII. 


HIS  PLACE  IN  THE  COURT  OF  SAUL. 


63 


rapidly  to  the  rank  of  captain  over  a thousand,  — the 
subdivision  of  a tribe/  — and  finally  was  raised  to  the 
high  office  of  captain  of  the  king’s  body-guard/  second 
only  to  Abner,  the  captain  of  the  host,  and  Jonathan, 
the  heir  apparent.  He  lived  in  a separate  house,  prob- 
ably on  the  town  wall,®  furnished,  like  most  of  the 
dwellings  of  Israel  in  those  early  times,  with  a figure  ^ 
of  a household  genius,  which  gave  to  the  place  a kind 
of  sanctity  of  its  own. 

His  high  place  is  indicated  also  by  the  relation  in 
which  he  stood  to  the  other  members  of  the  royal 
house.  Merab  and  Michal  were  successively  designed 
for  him.  There  is  a mystery  hanging  over  the  name 
and  fate  of  Merab.^  But  it  seems  that  she  was  soon 
given  away  to  one  of  the  trans-Jordanic  friends  of  the 
house  of  Saul.  Michal  herself  became  enamored  of  the 
boyish  champion,  and  with  her,  at  the  cost  of  an  hun- 
dred Philistine  lives,  counted  in  the  barbarous  fashion 
of  the  age,  David  formed  his  first  great  marriage,  and 
reached  the  very  foot  of  the  throne. 

More  close,  however,  than  the  alliance  with  the  royal 
house  by  marriage  was  the  passionate  friend-  His  friend- 
ship  conceived  for  him  by  the  Prince  Jonathan  : Jonathan, 
the  first  Bibhcal  instance  of  such  a dear  companionship 
as  was  common  in  Greece,  and  has  been  since  in  Chris- 
tendom imitated,  but  never  surpassed,  in  modern  works 
of  fiction.  ^^The  soul  of  Jonathan  was  knit  with  the 
^^soul  of  David,  and  Jonathan  loved  him  as  his  own 
"soul.”®  Each  found  in  each  the  affection  that  he 

1 1 Sam.  xvili.  13.  her  whole  story  (1  Sam.  xviil.  17-19) 

2 Ibid.  XX.  25,  xxii.  14,  as  ex-  is  omitted;  and  in  the  Hebrew  text 

nlained  by  Ewald,  iii.  98.  of  2 Sam.  xxi.  8,  the  name  of  her  sis- 

3 1 Sam.  xix.  11,  12.  ter  Mielial  appears  to  have  been  sab- 

^ Ibid.  13 ; comp.  Judg.  xvii.  5.  stituted  tor  hers. 

* In  the  Vatican  MS.  of  the  LXX.  6 i Sam.  xviii.  1 ; 2 Sam.  i.  26. 


64 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXII. 


found  not  in  his  own  family.  No  jealousy  of  future 
eminence  ever  interposed.  ^^Thou  shalt  be  king  in 

Israel,  and  I shall  be  next  to  thee.”  By  the  gift  of 
his  royal  mantle/  his  sword,  his  girdle,  and  his  famous 
bow,  the  Prince  on  his  very  first  interview  confirmed 
the  compact  which  was  to  bind  them  together  as  by  a 
sacramental  union. 

The  successive  snares  laid  by  Saul  to  entrap  him,  and 
the  open  violence  into  which  the  king’s  madness  twice 
broke  out,^  at  last  convinced  him  that  his  life  was  no 
longer  safe.  Jonathan  he  never  saw  again  except  by 
stealth.  Michal  was  given  in  marriage  to  another  — 
Phaltiel,  an  inhabitant  of  the  neighboring  village  of 
Gallim,  and  he  saw  her  no  more  till  long  after  her 
father’s  death. 

The  importance  of  the  crisis  is  revealed  by  the 
amount  of  detail  which  clings  to  it.  He  w^as  himself 
filled  with  grief  and  perplexity  at  the  thought  of  the 
impending  necessity  of  leaving  the  spot  which  had  be- 
come his  second  home.  His  passionate  tears  at  night, 
his  remembrance  of  his  encounters  with  the  lion  in  the 
pastures  of  Bethlehem,  his  bitter  sense  of  wrong  and 
ingratitude,^  apparently  belong  to  this  moment.  The 
chief  agent  of  Saul  in  the  attack  was  one  of  his  own 
tribe,  Cush ; ^ to  whom  David  had  formerly  rendered 
some  service.  A band  of  armed  men  encircled  the  whole 
town  in  which  David’s  house  stood  ; yelling  like  savage 
Eastern  dogs,  and  returning,  evening  after  evening,  to 
take  ^ up  their  posts,  to  prevent  his  escape.  So  it  was 

1 1 Sam.  xviii.  4.  5 Title  of  Ps.  ILx.,  and  see  verses  3, 

2 The  first  of  these  (l  Sam.  xviii.  6,  14.  There  are  expressions  in  this 

9-1 1)  is  omitted  in  the  Vatican  MS.  Psalm,  however  (verses  5,  8,  11), 
of  the  LXX.  and  by  Josephus  (see  which  look  more  like  allusions  to  the 
Ani.  vi.  10,  § 1).  invasion  of  the  Scythians  (see  Ewald, 

3 Ps.  vi.  6-8,  vii.  2,  4,  6 (Ewald).  Psalmen,  165). 

* Ps.  vii.  1. 


L*^t.  XXII. 


HIS  ESCAPE. 


65 


conceived,  at  least,  in  later  tradition.  That  escape  he 
ellected  by  climbing  out  of  the  house-window,  probably 
over  the  wall  of  the  town.  His  flight  was  concealed  for 
some  time  by  a device  similar  to  that  under  cover  of 
which  a great  potentate  of  our  own  time  escaped  from 
prison.  The  statue  of  the  household  genius  was  put  in 
the  bed,  with  its  head  covered  by  a goat’s-hair  net ; ^ and 
by  this  the  pursuers  were  kept  at  bay  till  David  was  in 
safety.  He  sang  of  the  power  of  his  Divine  Protector. 
The  bows  and  arrows  of  the  Benjamite  archers  were  to 
be  met  by  a mightier  Bow  and  by  sharper  Arrows  than 
their  own ; he  sang  aloud  of  His  mercy  in  the  morning  ; 
for  He  had  been  his  defence  and  his  refuge  in  the  day 
of  his  trouble.^ 

He  fled  to  Naioth  (or  ^Hhe  pastures”)  of  Eamah,  to 
Samuel.  This  is  the  first  recorded  occasion  of  his  meet- 
ing with  Samuel  since  the  original  interview  during  his 
boyhood  at  Bethlehem.”  It  might  almost  seem  as  if 
David  had  intended  to  devote  himself  with  his  musical 
and  poetical  gifts  to  the  prophetical  office,  and  give  up 
the  cares  and  dangers  of  public  life.  But  he  had  a 
higher  destiny  still.  The  consecrated  haunts  which 
even  over  the  mind  of  Saul  exercised  a momentary  in- 
fluence,^ were  not  to  become  the  permanent  refuge  of 
the  greatest  soul  of  that  stirring  age.  Although  up  to 
this  time  both  the  king  and  himself  had  thought  that  a 
reunion  was  possible,  it  now  appeared  that  the  madness 
of  Saul  became  constantly  more  settled  and  ferocious, 
and  David’s  danger  proportionably  greater.  The  tid- 
ings of  it  were  conveyed  to  him  in  the  secret  interview 

1 So  Ewald  (iii.  101).  The  LXX.  2 Ps,  vii.  12,  1?,  17  ; Ex.  16. 

takes  it  to  be  a “ goat’s  liver,”  which  3 Ps.  liv.  1. 

Josephus  {Ant.  vi.  11,  § 4)  represents  * 1 Sam.  xix.  ill 

a.®  a device  to  give  the  motion  of  pal- 
pitation and  breathing. 


VOL.  II. 


5 


66 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


I WOT  XX 11. 


with  Jonathan,  by  the  cairn  of  EzeV  of  which  the  rec- 
ollection was  probably  handed  down  through  Jonathan's 
descendants  when  they  came  to  David’s  court. 

The  interview  brings  out  all  the  peculiarities  of  Jona- 
than’s character,  — his  little  artifices,  his  love  both  for 
his  father  and  his  friend,  his  bitter  disappointment  at 
his  father’s  ungovernable  fury,  his  familiar  sport  of 
archery,  under  cover  of  which  the  whole  meeting  takes 
place.  The  former  compact  between  the  two  friends  is 
resumed,  extending  even  to  their  immediate  posterity ; 
Jonathan  laying  such  emphasis  on  this  portion  of  the 
agreement  as  almost  to  suggest  the  belief  that  he  had 
a slight  misgiving  of  David’s  future  conduct  in  this 
respect.  With  tender  words  and  wild  tears,  the  two 
friends  parted,  never  again  to  meet  in  the  royal  home. 

His  refuge  in  the  centre  of  Prophetical  influence  had 
6een  discovered.  He  therefore  turned  to  another  sanct- 
uary, one  less  congenial,  but  therefore  less  to  be  sus- 
pected. On  the  slope  of  Olivet,  overlooking  the  still 
unconquered  city  of  Jerusalem,  all  unconscious  of  the 
mture  sanctity  of  that  venerable  hill,  stood  the  last 
relic  of  the  ancient  nomadic  times  — the  Tabernacle  of 
the  Wanderings,  round  which  since  the  fall  of  Shiloh 
had  dwelt  the  descendants  of  the  house  of  Eli.  It  was 
u little  colony  of  Priests.  No  less  than  eighty-five  per- 
sons^ ministered  there  in  the  white  linen  dress  of  the 
Priesthood,  and  all  their  families  and  herds  w^ere  gath- 
ered round  them.  The  Priest  was  not  so  ready  to  be- 
friend as  had  been  the  Prophet.  As  the  solitary  fugi- 
tive, famished  and  unarmed,  stole  up  the  mountain-side, 
he  met  with  a cold  reception  from  the  cautious  and 
courtly  Ahimelech.  By  a ready  ^ story  of  a secret  mis- 


1 See  Ezel,  in  Dicf.  of  Bible. 
* 1 Sam.  xxi.  1 ; xxii.  1 8. 


3 This  is  given  somewliat  dilferent- 
ly  in  the  Hebrew  ami  in  the  lXX. 


Lxot.  XXII. 


HIS  ESCAPE. 


G7 


sioD  from  Saul,  and  of  a hidden  company  of  attendants, 
he  put  Ahimelech  off  his  guard;  and  by  an  urgent  en- 
treaty, it  may  be  by  a gentle  flattery,^  persuaded  him  to 
give  him  five  loaves  from  the  consecrated  store,  and  the 
sword  of  the  Philistine  giant  from  its  place  behind  the 
sacred  vestment  of  the  priestly  oracle,  and  through  that 
oracle  to  give  him  counsel  for  his  future  guidance.^  It 
was  a slight  incident,  as  it  would  seem,  in  the  flight  of 
David,  but  it  led  to  terrible  results,  it  was  fraught  with 
a momentous  lesson.  As  the  loaves  and  the  sword  were 
handed  to  David  out  of  the  sacred  curtains,  his  eye 
rested  on  a well-known  face,  which  filled  him  with 
dismay.  It  was  Doeg,  the  Edomite^  keeper  of  Saul’s 
stables,  who  had  in  earlier  years  (so  it  was  believed) 
chosen  him  as  Saul’s  minstrel.  He  was  for  some  cere- 
monial reason  enclosed  within  the  sacred  precincts ; and 
David  immediately  augured  ill.  On  the  information  of 
Doeg  followed  one  of  those  ruthless  massacres  with 
which  the  history  of  this  age  abounds  ; the  house  of 
Ithamar  was  destroj^ed,  and  the  sanctuary  of  Nob  over- 
thrown. It  may  be  that  with  the  savage  sentiment  of 
revenge  was  mingled  in  the  King’s  mind  some  pretext 
from  the  profanation  of  the  sacred  bread  for  common 
use.  Jewish  teachers  in  later  times  imagined  that  the 
loaves  thus  given  became  useless  in  the  hands  of  the 
hungry^  fugitive.  But  a Higher  than  Saul  or  David 
selected  this  act  of  Ahimelech  ^ as  the  one  incident  in 
David’s  life  on  which  to  bestow  Ilis  especial  commenda- 
tion ; because  it  contained  — however  trernidously  and 

^ 1 Sam.  xxi.  5,  “ It  is  sanctified  3 i Sam.  xxi.  7 ; xxii.  22.  See 
this  day  by  the  instrument,”  i.  e.  by  Lecture  XX. 
oim  that  g ves  it  (so  Theuius).  Jerome,  Qu.  Heh,  in  loc. 

* 1 Sam.  xxii.  9,  15.  5 Matt.  xii.  3 ; Mark  il.  25  ; Lnks 

vi.  3,  4. 


68 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


lect.  xxn. 


guardedly  expressed  — the  great  Evangelical  truth  that 
the  ceremonial  law,  however  rigid,  must  give  way  be- 
fore the  claims  of  suffering  humanity. 

Prophet  and  Priest  having  alike  failed  to  protect  him, 

. David  now  threw  himself  on  the  mercy  of  his 
of  Achish.  enemies,  the  Philistines.  They  seem  to  have 
been  at  this  time  united  under  a single  head,  Achish, 
King  of  Gath,  and  in  his  court  David  took  refuge.  There, 
at  least,  Saul  could  not  pursue  him.  But,  discovered 
possibly  by  the  sword  of  Goliath,”  his  presence  revived 
the  national  enmity  of  the  Philistines  against  their  for- 
mer conqueror.  According  to  one  version  he  was  actu- 
ally imprisoned,  and  was  in  danger  of  his  life ; ^ and  he 
only  escaped  by  feigning  a madness,^  probably  suggested 
by  the  ecstasies  of  the  Prophetic  schools : violent  gest- 
ures, playing  on  the  gates  of  the  city  as  on  a drum  or 
cymbal,  letting  his  beard  grow,  and  foaming  at  the 
mouth.^  There  was  a noble  song  of  triumph  ascribed 
to  him  on  the  success  of  this  plan.  Even  if  not  actually 
composed  by  him,  it  is  remarkable  as  showing  what  a 
religious  aspect  was  ascribed  in  after-times  to  one  of  the 
most  secular  and  natural  events  of  his  life.  The  angel 
of  the  Lord  encamped  about  him  ” in  his  prison,  and 
delivered  him.”  And  he  himself  is  described  as  breath- 
ing the  loftiest  tone  of  moral  dignity  in  the  midst  of  his 
lowest  degradation:  ''Keep  thy  tongue  from  evil  and 
' thy  lips  that  they  speak  no  guile.  Depart  from  evil 
" and  do  good,  seek  peace  and  pursue  it  ” ^ 

He  was  now  an  outcast  from  both  nations.  Israel 


1 Title  of  Ps.  Ivi.  Aga,  a well-known  modern  Arab  chief, 

2 This  is  the  subject  of  one  of  escaped  from  the  governor  of  Acre  in 

David’s  apocryphal  colloquies  (Fa-  like  manner,  pretending  to  bo  a mad 
bricius,  p.  1002).  dervish. 

3 1 Sam.  xxi.  ^3,  LXX.  Aghyle  ^ Ps.  xxxiv.  1,  7,  21 


Lkot  XXII. 


HIS  WANDERINGS. 


60 


and  Philistia  were  alike  closed  against  him.  There 
was  no  resource  but  that  of  an  independent  in  the  cave 
outlaw.^  Plis  first  retreat  was  the  cave  of  Adul- 
lam.  probably  the  large  cavern  not  far  from  Bethlehem, 
now  called  Khureitun.^  From  its  vicinity  to  Bethlehem, 
he  was  joined  there  by  his  whole  family,  now  feeling 
themselves  insecure  from  Saul’s  fury.^  This  was  prob- 
ably the  foundation  of  his  intimate  connection  with  his 
nephews,  the  sons  of  Zeruiah.  Of  these,  Abishai,  with 
two  other  companions,  was  among  the  earliest.^  Besides 
these,  were  outlaws  from  every  part,  including  doubtless 
some  of  the  original  Canaanites  — of  whom  the  name 
of  one  at  least  has  been  preserved,  Ahimelech  the  Hit- 
tite.^  In  the  vast  columnar  halls  and  arched  chambers 
of  this  subterranean  palace,  all  who  had  any  grudge 
against  the  existing  system  gathered  round  the  hero  of 
the  coming  age,  the  unconscious  materials  out  of  which 
a new  world  was  to  be  formed. 

His  next  move  was  to  a stronghold,^  either  the  moun- 
tain afterwards  called  Herodium,  close  to  Adul-  , , , ,, 

^ la  the  hold. 

lam,  or  the  gigantic  fastness  afterwards  called 
Masada,  in  the  neighborhood  of  En-gedi.  Whilst  there, 
he  had,  for  the  sake  of  greater  security,  deposited  his 
aged  parents  beyond  the  Jordan,  with  their  ancestral 
kinsmen  of  Moab.^  The  neighboring  king,  Nahash  of 
Ammon,  also  treated  him  kindly.^  He  was  joined  here 
by  two  separate  bands.  One  was  a detachment  of  men 

1 1 Sam.  xxii.  1 — xxvi.  25.  18),  is  said  by  Josephus  to  have  been 

2 See  Bonar’s  Land  of  Promise^  a Hittite. 

pp.  244-247.  6 1 Sam.  xxii.  4,  5 ; 1 Chron.  xii. 

3 1 Sam.  xxii.  1.  8,  16. 

4 1 Chron.  xi.  15,  20;  1 Sam.  xxvi.  7 Ithmah  the  Moabite  (1  Chr.  xL 

6 ; 2 Sam.  xxiii.  13,  18.  46)  and  Zelek  the  Ammonite  (2  Sam 

® 1 Sam.  xxvi.  6.  Sibbechai,  who  xxxiii.  36)  may  have  follcwe»i  his 
dlls  the  giant  at  Gob  (2  Sam.  xxi.  track. 

8 2 Sam.  X.  2. 


70 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


Lkct.  XXII 


from  Judah  and  Benjamin  under  his  nephew  Amasa. 
who  henceforth  attached  himself  to  David’s  fortunes.^ 
Another  was  a little  body  of  eleven  Gadite  ^ mountain- 
eers, who  swam  the  Jordan  in  flood- time  to  reach  him. 
Each  deserved  special  mention  by  name ; each  was 
renowned  for  his  military  rank  or  prowess ; and  their 
activity  and  fierceness  was  like  the  wild  creatures  of 
their  own  wild  country : like  the  gazelles  of  their  hills, 
and  the  Hons  of  their  forests.  Following  on  their  track, 
as  it  would  seem,  another  companion  appears  for  the 
first  time,  a schoolfellow,  if  we  may  use  the  word,  from 
the  schools  of  Samuel,  the  prophet  Gad,^  who  appears 
suddenly,  like  Elijah,  as  if  he  too,  as  his  name  implies, 
had  come,  like  Elijah,  from  the  hills  and  forests  of 
Gad. 

It  was  whilst  he  was  with  these  little  bands  that  a 
foray  of  the  Philistines  had  descended  on  the  vale  of 
Kephaim  in  harvest  time.^  The  animals  were  there 
being  laden  with  the  ripe  corn.  The  officer  in  charge 
of  the  expedition  was  on  the  watch  in  the  neighboring 
The  well  of  tillage  of  Bethlehem.  David,  in  one  of  those 
Bethlehem,  passionate  accesses  of  homesickness,  which  be- 
long to  his  character,  had  longed  for  a draught  of  water 
from  the  well,  which  he  remembered  by  the  gate  of  his 
native  village,  that  precious  water  which  was  afterwards 
conveyed  by  costly  conduits  to  Jerusalem.®  So  devoted 
were  his  adherents,  so  determined  to  gratify  every  want, 
however  trifling,  that  three  of  them  started  instantly, 
fought  their  way  through  the  intervening  army  of  the 
Philistines,  and  brought  back  the  water.  His  noble 

1 1 Chron.  xii.  16-18.  1.5-19.  See  Rephaim  in  Diet,  oj 

^ Ibid.  xii.  8-15.  Bible. 

3 1 Sam.  xxii.  5.  ® See  Ritter’s  Palestine^  278. 

* 2 Sam.  xxiii.  13-17*,  1 Chr.  xi. 


ti*CT.  XXII. 


HIS  WANDERINGS. 


T1 


spirit  rose  at  the  sight.  With  a still  loftier  thought 
than  that  which  inspired  Alexander’s  like  sentiment  in 
the  desert  of  Gedrosia,  he  poured  the  cherished  water 
on  the  ground  — ^^as  an  offering  to  the  Lord.”  That 
which  had  been  won  by  the  lives  of  those  three  gallant 
chiefs  was  too  sacred  for  him  to  drink,  but  it  was  on 
that  very  account  deemed  by  him  as  worthy  to  be  con- 
secrated in  sacrifice  to  God  as  any  of  the  prescribed 
offerings  of  the  Levitical  ritual.  Pure  Chivalry  and 
pure  Eeligion  there  found  an  absolute  union. 

At  the  warning  of  Gad,  David  fled  next  to  the  forest 
of  Hareth  (which  has  long  ago  been  cleared  inthehiiis 
away)  among  the  hills  of  Judah,  and  there 
again  fell  in  with  the  Philistines,  and,  apparently  ad- 
vised by  Gad,  made  a descent  on  their  foraging  parties, 
and  relieved  a fortress  of  repute  at  that  time,  Keilah, 
in  which  he  took  up  his  abode  until  the  harvest  was 
gathered  safely  in.  He  was  now  for  the  first  time  in 
a fortified  town  of  his  own,^  and  to  no  other  situation 
can  we  equally  well  ascribe  what  may  be  almost  called 
the  Fortress-Hymn  of  the  31st  Psalm.^  By  this  time 
the  400  who  had  joined  him  at  Adullam^  had  swelled 
to  600.  Here  he  received  the  tidings  that  Nob  had 
been  destroyed,  and  the  priestly  family  exteriiiinated. 
The  bearer  of  this  news  was  the  only  survivor  of  the 
house  of  Ithamar,  Abiathar,  who  brought  with  him  the 
High  - Priest’s  ephod,  with  the  Urim  and  Thummim,^ 
which  were  henceforth  regarded  as  Abiathai’s  special 
charge,  and  from  him,  accordingly,  David  received  ora- 

1 1 Sam.  xxii.  5,  xxlii.  4,  7.  3 1 Sam.  xxii.  2,  jfZii.  13. 

2 Ps.  xxxi.  2,  3,  4,  8,  20,  21  (where  ^ Ibid,  xxiii.  6,  xHi.  20-23,  Ja- 

the  metrical  version  of  Tate  and  rome,  Qu.  Heb.  on  tr.e  pussaga 
Brady  has  inserted  “ Keilah’s  well- 

ienced  town  ”). 


72 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXII 


cles  and  directions  as  to  his  movements,  A fierce  burst 
of  indignation  against  Doeg,  the  author  of  the  massa- 
cre, traditionally  commemorates  the  period  of  the  re- 
ception of  this  news.^ 

The  situation  of  David  was  now  changed  by  the 
appearance  of  Saul  himself  on  the  scene.  Apparently 
the  danger  was  too  great  for  the  little  army  to  keep 
together.  They  escaped  from  Keilah,  and  dispersed, 
^^whithersoever  they  could  go,”  amongst  the  fastnesses 
of  Judah. 

The  inhabitants  of  Keilah  were  probably  Canaanites. 
At  any  rate,  they  could  not  be  punished  for  sheltering 
the  young  outlaw.  It  may  be,  too,  that  the  inhabitants 
of  southern  Judea  retained  a fearful  recollection  of  the 
victory  of  Saul  over  their  ancient  enemies,^  the  Amalek- 
ites,  the  great  trophy  of  which  had  been  set  up  on  the 
southern  Carmel.  The  pursuit  (so  far  as  we  can^  trace 
it)  now  becomes  unusually  hot. 

He  is  in  the  wilderness  of  Ziph.  Under  the  shade 
of  the  forest  of  Ziph  for  the  last  time,  he  sees  Jona- 
than.^ Once  (or  twice)  the  Ziphites  betray  his  move- 
ments to  Saul.  From  thence  Saul  literally  hunts  him 
like  a partridge,  the  treacherous  Ziphites  beating  the 
bushes  before  him,  or,  like  ^ a single  Ilea  skipping  from 
crag  to  crag  before  the  3000  men  stationed  to  catch 
even  the  print  of  his  footsteps  on  the  hills.®  David 
finds  himself  driven  to  a fresh  covert,  to  the  wilderness 

1 Ps.  lii.  (title).  and  perhaps  1 Sam.  xxiv,  1-22,  xxvL 

2 See  Lecture  XXL  and  Wright’s  5-25). 

Life  of  David,  p.  108.  1 Sam.  xxiii.  16. 

3 AVe  cease  to  follow  the  events  ^ Ibid.  xxiv.  14,  xxvi.  20;  Hcb. 
with  exactness,  partly  from  Ignorance  “ one  tlea.” 

r>f  the  localities,  partly  because  the  ® Ibid,  xxiii.  14,22  (Heb.  “ foot  ”), 
name  event  seems  to  be  twice  nar-  24  (LXX.),  xxiv.  11,  xxvi.  2,  20. 
rated  (1  Sam.  xxiii.  19-24,  xxvi.  1-4; 


L»ct.  XXII. 


THE  CAVE  AT  ENGEDI. 


73 


of  Maori.  On  two,  if  not  three  occasions,  the  pursuer 
and  pursued  catch  sight  of  each  other.  Of  the  first  of 
these  escapes,  the  memorj  was  long  preserved  in  the 
name  of  the  Cliff  of  Divisions,  given  to  the  rock  down 
one  side  of  which  David  climbed,  whilst  Saul  was  sur- 
rounding the  hill  on  the  other  side,  and  whence  he  was 
suddenly  called  away  by  a panic  of  Philistine  invasion.^ 
On  another  occasion,  David  took  refuge  in  a cave  at 
Engedi,  so  called  from  the  beautiful  spring  fre- 
quented  by  the  wild  goats  which  leap  from 
rock  to  rock  along  the  precipices  immediately  above 
the  Dead  Sea.^  The  hills  were  covered  with  the  pur- 
suers. Into  the  cavern,  where  in  the  darkness  no  one 
was  visible,  Saul  turned  aside  for  a moment,  as  Eastern 
wayfarers  are  wont,  from  public  observation.®  David 
and  his  followers  were  seated  in  the  innermost  recesses 
of  the  cave,  and  saw,  without  being  seen,  the  King  come 
in  and  sit  down,  spreading  his  wide  robe,  as  is  usual  in 
the  East  on  such  occasions,  before  and  behind  the  per- 
son so  occupied.  There  had  been  an  augury,  a predic- 
tion of  some  kind,  that  a chance  of  securing  his  enemy 
would  be  thrown  in  David’s  way.^  The  followers  in 
their  dark  retreat  suggest  that  now  is  the  time.  David, 
with  a characteristic  mixture  of  humor  and  generosity, 
descends  and  silently  cuts  off  the  skirt  of  the  long  robe 
from  the  back  of  the  unconscious  and  preoccupied  King, 
and  then  ensued  the  pathetic  scene  of  remonstrance 
and  forgiveness,  which  shows  the  true  affection  that 
lived  beneath  the  hostility  of  the  two  rivals.  The 
third  meeting  (if  it  can  be  distinguished  from  the  one 
just  given)  was  again  in  the  wilderness  of  Ziph.  The 

J 1 Sam.  xxili.  25-29.  The  Oriental  usage  leaves  no  doubt 

2 Ibid.  xxiv.  1,2.  as  to  the  nature  of  the  act  intended. 

• Ibid.  xxiv.  3,  “ to  cover  his  feet.”  1 Sam.  xxiv.  4. 


74 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXII 


King  ^7as  intrenched  in  a regular  camp,  formed  hy 
the  usual  Hebrew  fortification  of  wagons  and  baggage 
Into  this  enclosure  David  penetrated  by  night,  and  car- 
ried off  the  cruse  of  water,  and  the  well-known  royal 
spear  ^ of  Saul,  which  had  twice  so  nearly  transfixed 
him  to  the  wall  in  former  days.  The  same  scene  is 
repeated  as  at  Engedi,  — and  this  is  the  last  interview 
between  Saul  and  David.  Return,  my  son  David ; for 
I will  no  more  do  thee  harm,  because  my  soul  was  pre- 

^^cious  in  thine  eyes  this  day Blessed  be  thou, 

my  son  David  • thou  shalt  both  do  great  things  and 
also  shalt  prevail.”  ^ 

The  crisis  was  now  passed.  The  earlier  stage  of 
David's  life  is  drawing  to  its  close.  Samuel  was  dead, 
and  with  him  the  house  of  Ramah  was  extinct.®  Saul 
had  ceased  to  be  dangerous,  and  the  end  of  that  troub- 
led reign  was  rapidly  approaching.  David  is  now 
to  return  to  a greater  than  his  former  position,  by  the 
same  door  through  which  he  left  it,  as  an  ally  of  the 
Philistine  kings.  We  seem  for  a moment  to  find  him 
in  one  of  the  levels  of  life,  which  like  many  transitional 
epochs  have  the  least  elevation.  He  comes  back  not 
as  a solitary  fugitive,  or  persecuted  suppliant,  but  as  a 
David  as  a poweiful  freebooter.  His  600  followers  have 
freebooter,  g^owu  up  iuto  au  Organized^  force,  with  their 
wives  and  families  about  them.  He  has  himself  estab- 
lished a name  and  fame  in  the  pastures  of  Southern 
Judea,  which  showed  that  his  trials  had  already  devel- 
oped within  him  some  of  those  royal,  we  may  almost 
say  imperious,  qualities  that  mark  his  after-life.  Two 
wives  have  followed  his  fortunes  from  these  regions. 

I 1 Sam.  xxiv.  8-22.  For  the  Mus-  3 Ibid.  25. 

rtthnan  legend,  see  Weil,  p.  166.  ^ Ibid,  xxvii.  3,  4. 

* 1 Sam.  xxvi.  7,  11,  22. 


UoT.  XXII. 


ADVENTURE  WITH  NABAL. 


75 


Of  one,  Ahinoam,  we  know  nothing  except  hei  birth- 
place,  Jezreel,  on  the  slopes  of  the  southern  Carmel.^ 
The  other,  Abigail,  came  from  the  same  neighborhood, 
and  her  introduction  to  David  opens  to  us  a glmpse  of 
the  lighter  side  of  his  wanderings,  that  we  cannot  afford 
to  lose ; in  which  we  see  not  only  the  romantic  advent- 
ures of  Gustavus  Yasa,  of  Pelayo,  of  the  Stuart  Princes, 
but  also  the  generous,  genial  life  of  the  exiled  Duke 
in  the  forest  of  Ardennes,  or  the  outlaw  of  Sherwood 
forest. 

There  lived  in  that  part  of  the  country  Nabal,  a pow- 
erful chief,  whose  wealth,  as  might  be  expected  story  of 
from  his  place  of  residence,  consisted  chiefly  Abigail, 
of  sheep' and  goats.  The  tradition  preserved  the  exact 
numbers  of  each,  3000  of  the  one,  1000  of  the  other. 
It  was  the  custom  of  the  shepherds  to  drive  them  into 
the  wilderness  of  Carmel.  Once  a year  there  was  a 
great  banquet,  when  they  brought  back  their  sheep  for 
shearing,  with  eating  and  drinking,  ^Gike  the  feast  of  a 
^^king.”^  It  was  on  one  of  these  occasions  that  ten 
youths  were  seen  approaching  the  hill.  In  them  the 
shepherds  recognized  the  slaves  or  attendants  of  the 
chief  of  a band  of  freebooters  who  had  showed  them 
unexpected  kindness  in  their  pastoral  excursions.  To 
Nabal  they  were  unknown.  They  approached  him  with 
a triple  salutation;  enumerated  the  services  of  their 
master,  and  ended  by  claiming,  with  that  mixture  of 
courtesy  and  defiance  so  characteristic  of  the  East, 
whatsoever  cometh  to  thy  hand,  for  thy  servants^ 
and  for  thy  son  David.”  The  great  sheepmaster  was 
not  disposed  to  recognize  this  new  parental  relation. 
He  was  notorious  for  his  obstinacy,  and  his  low  and 

I 1 Sam.  XXV.  43  ; Josh.  xv.  56.  3 i Sam.  xxiv.  8.  The  LXX.  oral 

® Ibid.  XXV.  2,  4,  36.  these  words. 


76 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


Lect  XXII 


cynical  turn  of  mind.  On  hearing  this  demand,  he 
sprang  ^ up  and  broke  out  into  fury : Who  is  David  ? 

and  who  is  the  son  of  J esse  ? ” The  moment  that  the 
messengers  were  gone,  the  shepherds  that  stood  by  per- 
ceived the  danger  of  their  position.  To  Nabal  himself 
they  durst  not  speak.  But  they  knew  that  he  was 
married  to  a wife  as  beautiful  and  wise  as  he  was  the 
reverse.  To  Abigail,  as  to  the  good  angel  of  the  house- 
hold, one  of  the  shepherds  told  the  state  of  affairs. 
She  loaded  her  husband’s  numerous  asses  with  presents, 
and  with  her  attendants  running  before  her,  rode  down 
towards  David’s  encampment.  She  was  just  in  time. 
At  that  very  moment  he  had  made  the  usual  vow  of 
extermination  against  the  whole  household.  She  threw 
herself  on  her  face  before  him,  and  poured  forth  her 
petition  in  language  which  both  in  form  and  substance 
almost  assumes  the  tone  of  poetry.  The  main  argu- 
ment rests  on  the  description  of  her  husband’s  charac- 
ter, which  she  draws  with  that  union  of  playfulness  and 
seriousness  which,  above  all  things,  turns  away  wrath. 

As  his  name  is,  so  is  he : Fool  (Nabal)  is  his  name  and 

folly  is  with  him.”  She  returned  with  the  announce- 
ment that  David  had  recanted  his  vow.  Already  the 
tenacious  adhesion  to  these  rash  oaths  had  given  way 
in^  the  better  heart  of  the  people.  Like  the  nobles  of 
Palestine  at  a later  period,  Nabal  had  drunk  to  excess, 
and  his  wife  dared  not  communicate  to  him  either  his 
danger  or  his  escape.  At  break  of  day  she  told  him 
both.  The  stupid  reveller  was  suddenly  aroused  to  a 
sense  of  his  folly.  It  was  as  if  a stroke  of  paralysis  or 
apoplexy  had  fallen  upon  him.  Ten  days  he  lingered, 
^ and  the  Lord  smote  Nabal  and  he  died.”  The  memory 
of  his  death  long  lived  in  David’s  memory,  and  in  his 

1 1 Sam.  xxiv.  10  (LXX.).  2 See  Lecture  XXL  p.  19. 


UCT.  XXII. 


WAR  OF  ZIKLAG 


77 


dirge  over  the  noblest  of  his  enemieS;  he  rejoiced  to  say 
that  Abner  had  not  died  like^  Nabal.  The  rich  and 
beautiful  widow  became  his  wife.^ 

* In  this  new  condition^  David  appears  at  the  court  of 
Achish,  King  of  Gath.  He  is  warmly  welcomed.  After 
the  manner  of  Eastern  potentates,  Achish  gave  him,  for 
his  support,  a city  — Ziklag  on  the  frontier  of  Philistia 
■ — which  thus  became  an  appanage  of  the  royal  house 
of  Judah.^  His  increasing  importance  is  indicated  by 
the  fact  that  a body  of  Benjamite  archers  and  slingers, 
twenty-three  of  whom  are  specially  named,  joined  him 
from  the  very  tribe  of  his  rival.^  Possibly  during  this 
stay  he  may  have  acquired  the  knowledge  of  military 
organization,  in  which  the  Philistines  surpassed  the 
Israelites,  and  in  which  he  surpassed  all  the  preceding 
rulers  of  Israel. 

He  deceived  Achish  into  confidence  by  attacking  the 
old  nomadic  inhabitants  of  the  desert  frontier,  and, 
with  relentless  severity,  cutting  off  all  witnesses  of  this 
deception,  and  representing  the  plunder  to  be  from 
portions  of  the  southern  tribes  of  Israel  or  the  nomadic 
tribes  allied  to  them.  But  this  confidence  was  not 
shared  by  the  Philistine  nobles ; and  accordingly  when 
Achish  went  on  his  last  victorious  campaign  against 


1 2 Sam.  ill.  .S3  (Heb.  and  LXX.). 

2 The  suspicions  entertained  by 
theologians  of  the  last  century,  that 
there  was  a conspiracy  between  Da- 
vid and  Abigail  to  make  away  with 
Nabal,  have  given  place  to  the  better 
spirit  of  modern  criticism,  and  Ewald 
enters  fully  into  the  feeling  of  the 
narrator,  closing  his  summary  of  Na- 
bal’s  death  with  the  reflection  that 
“it  was  not  without  justice  regarded 
IS  a Divine  judgment.” 


3  1 Sam.  xxvii.  6.  Here  we  meet 
with  the  first  note  of  time  in  David's 
life.  He  was  settled  there  for  a “ year 
and  four  months”  (xxvii.  7).  But 
the  value  of  this  is  materially  dam- 
aged  by  the  variations  in  the  LXX. 
to  “ four  months,”  and  Joseph.  (^Ant. 
vi.  ■’3,  § 10)  to  “four  months  and 
twenty  days.” 

^ 1 Chr.  xii.  1-7. 


78 


THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXII 


Saul,  Da^ud  was  sent  back,  and  thus  escaped  the  difficul 
ty  of  being  present  at  the  battle  of  Gilboa.^  He  found 
that  during  his  absence  the  Bedouin  Amalekites,  whom 
he  had  plundered  during  the  previous  year,  had  made 
a descent  upon  Ziklag,  burnt  it  to  the  ground,  and  car- 
ried off  the  wives  and  children  of  the  new  settlement. 
A wild  scene  of  frantic  grief  and  recrimination  ensued 
between  David  and  his  followers.  It  was  calmed  by  an 
oracle  of  assurance  from  Abiathar.^  It  happened  that 
an  important  accession  had  just  been  made  to  his  force. 
On  his  march  to  Gilboa,  and  on  his  retreat,  he  had  been 
joined  by  some  chiefs  of  the  Manassites,  through  whose 
territory  he  was  passing.  Urgent  as  must  have  been 
the  need  for  them  at  home,  yet  David’s  fascination 
carried  them  off,  and  they  now  assisted  him  against 
the  plunderers.^  They  overtook  the  invaders  in  the 
desert,  and  recovered  the  spoil.  These  were  the  gifts 
with  which  David  was  now  able,  for  the  first  time,  to 
requite  the  friendly  inhabitants  of  the  scene  of  his  wan- 
derings.'^ A more  lasting  memorial  was  the  law  which 
traced  its  origin  to  the  arrangement  made  by  him, 
formerly  in  the  affair  with  Nabal,  but  noAV  again, 
more  completely,  for  the  equal  division  of  the  plunder 
amongst  the  two  thirds  who  followed  to  the  field,  and 
the  one  third  who  remained  to  guard  the  baggage.^ 
Two  days  after  this  victory  a Bedouin  arrived  from  the 
North  with  the  news  of  the  defeat  of  Gilboa.  The  re- 
ception of  the  tidings  of  the  death  of  his  rival  and  of 
his  friend,  the  solemn  mourning,  the  vent  of  his  indig- 
nation against  the  bearer  of  the  message,  the  pathetic 
lamentation  that  followed,  which  form  the  natural  close 


1 1 Sam.  xxix.  3-11. 
* Ibid.  XXX.  1-8. 

^ 1 Clir.  xii.  19-21. 


4 1 Sam.  XXX.  26-31. 

5 Ibid.  25,  x.xv.  13. 


L*ct.  XXII.  EFFECTS  OF  HIS  WANDERINGS.  79 

of  this  period  of  David’s  life,  have  been  already  de- 
scribed in  their  still  nearer  connection  with  the  life  and 
death  of  Sauld  It  is  a period  which  has  left  on  David’s 
character  marks  never  afterwards  effaced. 

Hence  sprang  that  ready  sagacity,  natural  to  one  who 
had  so  long  moved  with  his  life  in  his  hand.  At  the 
very  l)e^innin^  ^ of  this  period  of  his  career,  it  Fiiects  of 

^ ^ ^ ^ his  wander- 

is  said  of  him  that  he  behaved  himself  wisely,” 
evidently  with  the  impression  that  it  was  a wisdom 
called  forth  by  his  difficult  position,  — that  peculiar 
Jewish^  caution,  like  the  instinct  of  a hunted  animal, 
so  strongly  developed  in  the  persecuted  Israelites  of 
the  middle  ages.  We  cannot*  fix  with  certainty  the 
dates  of  the  Psalms  of  this  epoch  ^ of  his  life.  But,  in 
some  at  least,  we  can  trace  even  the  outward  circum- 
stances with  which  he  was  surrounded.  In  them,  we 
see  David’s  flight  as  a bird  to  the  mountains,”  ^ — like 
the  partridges  that  haunt  the  wild  hills  of  southern 
Judah.  As  he  catches  the  glimpses  of  Saul’s  archers 
and  spearmen  from  behind  the  rocks,  he  sees  them 
“ bending  their  bows,  making  ready  their  arrows  upon 
the  string,”  — he  sees  the  approach  of  those  who  hold 
no  converse  except  through  those  armed,  bristling 
bands,  whose  very  -Heeth  are  spears  and  arrows,  and 
their  tongue  a sharp  sword.”  ® 

The  savage  scenery  suggests  the  overthrow  of  his 
enemies.  ‘^They  shall  be  a portion  for  the  ravening 

1 2 Sam.  i.  1-27.  See  Lecture  Doth  not  David  hide  himself  with 

XXI.  us?”);  Ivii.  (“When  he  fled  from 

2 1 Sam.  xvlii.  14,  30.  Saul  in  the  cave”);  Ixlii.  (“  When 

3 See  Lecture  III.  he  was  in  the  wilderness  of  Judah,” 

* To  this  period  are  annexed  by  or  Idumjea,  LXX.)  ; cxlii.  (“  A 

their  traditional  titles  Psalm  xi.  (be-  prayer  when  he  was  in  the  cave”) 
lieved  by  Ewald  to  be  David’s)  ; liv.  5 Pg^  xi.  1. 

(“  When  the  Ziphim  came  and  said,  ® Ps.  xi.  2,  Ivii.  4. 


8')  THE  YOUTH  OF  DAVID.  Lect,  XXH. 

% 

^‘jackals.”  ^ They  shall  be  overtaken  by  fire  and 
‘‘brimstone,^  storm  and  tempest,”  such  as  laid  waste 
the  cities  of  old,  in  the  deep  chasms  above  which  he 
was  wandering.  His  mind  teems  with  the  recollections 
of  the  ^H’ocks  and  fastnesses,”  the  caves  and  leafy 

coverts  ” amongst  which  he  takes  refuge,  — the  prec- 
^Hpices”  down  which  he  slips,”  — the  steps  cut  in  the 
chffs  for  him  to  tread  in,  the  activity  as  of  “a  wild 

goat  ” with  which  he  bounds  from  crag  to  crag  to  escape 
his  enemies.® 

But  yet  more  in  these  Psalms  we  observe  the  growth 
of  his  dependence  on  God,  nurtured  by  his  hairbreadth 
escapes.  “As  the  Lord  liveth,  who  hath  redeemed^  my 
“ soul  out  of  adversity,”  was  the  usual  form  of  his  oath 
or  asseveration  in  later  times.  The  wild,  waterless  hills 
through  which  he  passes,  give  a new  turn  to  his  longing 
after  the  fountain  of  Divine  consolations.  “0  God, 
“thou  art  my  God,  early  will  I seek  thee.  My  soul 
“thirsteth  for  thee  in  a barren  and  diy  land  where 
“no  water  is.”^  The  hiding-places  in  which  the  rock 
arches  over  his®  head  are  to  him  the  very  shadow  of  the 
Almighty  wings.  The  summary  of  this  whole  period, 
when  he  was  “ deliv^ered  from  the  hand  of  ail  his 
“ enemies,  and  from  Saul,”  ^ is  that  of  one  who  knows 
that  for  some  great  purpose  he  has  been  drawn  up  from 
the  darkest  abyss  of  danger  and  distress.  He  seemed 

1 Ps.  lx  ill.  10.  6 Ps.  Ivii.  1. 

* Ps.  xi.  6.  7 Ps.  xvlil.  1.  Ewald,  chiefly  f'rcm 

3 Ps.  xviii.  2,  31,  33,  36,  46  ; xxxi.  the  apparent  allusions  to  the  alliances 

2,  3,  20.  of  foreign  enemies  in  verses  43,  44, 

4 2 Sam.  iv.  9 ; 1 Kings  i.  29.  45,  places  this  Psalm  at  the  close  of 

5 Ps.  Ixlii.  1.  Th.at  this  relates  to  David’s  wars.  But  the  special  men- 
his  earlier  wanderings,  and  not  to  the  tion  of  Saul  in  the  title,  and  the  gen- 
flight  from  Absalom,  ap{>ears  from  the  eral  cliaracter  of  the  contents,  eoeni 
Hebniw  word  for  “ wilderness,”  in  the  rather  to  fix  it  to  this  period. 

title  (rnidhar). 


Lect.  XXII.  THE  DELIVERANCE  OF  DAVID.  81 

to  have  sunk  down  below  the  lowest  depths  of  the  sea ; 
and  out  of  those  depths  his  cry  reached  to  the  throne 
of  God;  and,  as  in  a tremendous  thunder-storm,  with 
storm  and  wind,  with  thunder  and  lightning,  with  clouds 
and  darkness,  God  Himself  descended  and  drew  him 
forth.  He  sent  from  above.  He  took  me.  He  drew  me 
out  of  many  waters.”  The  means  by  which  this  de- 
liverance was  achieved  were,  as  far  as  we  know,  those 
which  we  see  in  the  Books  of  Samuel,  — the  turns  and 
chances  of  Providence,  his  own  extraordinary  activity, 
the  faithfulness  of  his  followers,  the  unexpected  increase 
of  his  friends.  But  the  act  of  deliverance  itself  is  de- 
scribed in  the  language  which  belongs  to  the  descent 
upon  Mount  Sinai  or  the  Passage  of  the  Red  Sea.  It 
was  the  Exodus,  though  of  a single  human  soul,  yet  of 
a soul  which  reflected  the  whole  nation.  It  was  the 
giving  of  a second  Law,  though  through  the  living 
tablets  of  a heart,  deeper  and  vaster  than  the  whole 
legislation  of  Moses.  It  was  the  beginning  of  a new 
Dispensation. 


VOL.  II. 


6 


LECTURE  XXm. 

THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


The  Psalms  which,  according  to  their  titles  or  their  contents,  Illustrate 
this  period,  are  : — 

(1)  For  Hebron,  Psalm  xxvii. 

(2)  For  the  occupation  of  Jerusalem,  Psalms  xxix.,  Ixviii.,  cscxxii.,  xxx , 
IV.,  xxiv.,  xcvi.  1 Chron.  xvi.  8-36,  xvii.  16-27,  xxix.  10-19. 

(3)  For  the  wars.  Psalms  xx.,  xxi.,  cviii.,  cx. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  DAVID. 


HIS  WIVES  AND  HIS  CHILDREN. 


I.  At  the  Court  op  Saul. 

Michal, 

“David’s  wife,”  1 Sam.  xix.  11,  xxv.  44;  2 Sam.  iii.  14 
to  be  Et^lah; 
ae,  ilii.  on 
2 Sam.  iii.  [>). 


n.  During  the  Wanderings. 


Ahinoam  of  Jezreel 
(1  Sam.  xxv.  43). 


Am  non 

(“  his  first-born ”). 


Abigail  of  Carmel 
(xxv.  42). 

Chileab,  or  Daniel 
(1  Cbr.  iii.  1). 
(Jehiel,  Jer.  Q.  U.  on 
1 Cbr.  xxvii.  32.) 


' rn.  At  Hebron  (2  Sam.  iii.  2-5 ; 1 Cbr.  ui.  1-4). 


Maacab  of  Gesbur. 

I 


Absalom. 

I 


I 

Tamar. 


Haggitb. 

Adonijah. 


8 sons  who 
lied  (2  Sam. 
xiv.  27, 
xviii  18). 


Tamar  = Uriel  of  Gibeah. 

Maacab  = Reboboam 
or  Micaiab 
(2  Sam.  xiv.  27, 

2 Cbr.  xiu.  2). 


Abital. 

Sbepbatiah. 


Eglah,  “ David’s  wifii.”* 
Itbmam. 


Abijah. 


IV.  At  Jerusalem  (2  Sam.  xv.  13-16 ; 1 Cbr.  iii.  6-8,  xiv.  4-7). 

(1)  Bathsbeba 
or  Bath.shua 
(1  Cbr.  iii.  5). 

Shammna  Sboba.  Nathan.  Jedidiah, 

or  Sbimea  or 

(1  Cbr.  iii.  6).  Solomon. 

Reboboam  = Maacab . 

(2)  “ Mere  wives.”  Abijab. 


) Ibbar.  Elisbua.  Eliphelet.  Nogab.  Nepheg.  Japhia.  Elishama.  Eliada,  or  EUpbalel 
Eli.shama  Beeliada. 

(1  Cbr.  iii.  6).  Also  daughters  (1  Cbr.  xiv.  3 ; 2 Sam.  v.  13). 


(8)  Ten  (?)  concubines  (2  Sam.  v.  13,  xv.  16) 

Jerimoth  Jesse. 

(2  Cbr.  xi.  18).  j 

Jerome^  Q.  H Ebab. 

Mabalath  = Reboboam  = Abihail. 


* The  tradition  on  Eglab  in  Jerome  ( Qu.  Heb.  on  iii.  6 and  vi.  23)  says  that  she  was  Michal ; and 
Uiat  she  died  in  giving  birth  to  Ithream. 

t The  LXX.  (Cod.  Vat.)  in  2 Sam.  v.  16,  after  having  given  substantially  the  same  list  as  th* 
pre.sent  Hebrew  text,  repeats  the  list,  with  strange  variations,  as  follows : — Samae,  lessibath, 
Nathan,  Galamaan,  lebaar,  Theesus,  Elphalat,  Naged,  Naphek,  lanatha,  Leasamys,  Baalimath, 
Eliphaath.  .Jo.sephus  (Ant.  vii.  3,  § 3)  gives  the  following  list,  of  which  only  three  names  are  iden- 
tical. He  states  that  the  two  last  were  sons  of  the  concubines  : — Amnus,  Emnus,  Eban,  Nathan, 
Solomon,  lebar,  Elien,  Pbalna,  Ennaphen,  lenae,  Eliphale  ; and  also  his  daughter  Tbamar. 


LECTVKk  XXJIJ. 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 

The  reign  of  David  divides  itseT  into  two  unequal 
portions.  The  first  is  the  reign  of  seven  years 
and  six  months  at  Hebron.  Hebron  was 
selected^  doubtless,  as  the  ancient  sacred  city  of  the 
tribe  of  Judah,  the  burial-place  of  the  patriarchs,  and 
the  inheritance  of  Caleb.  Here  David  was  first  formally 
anointed  king,  it  would  seem  by  the  tribe  of  Judah, 
without  any  intervention  of  Abiathar.  To  Judah  his 
reign  was  nominally  confined.  But  probably  for  the 
first  five  years  of  the  time,  the  dominion  of  the  house 
of  Saul,  the  seat  of  which  was  now  at  Mahanaim,  did 
not  extend  to  the  west  of  the  Jordan.  We  have  already 
seen^  how  David  waxed  stronger  and  stronger,  and  the 
house  of  Saul  waxed  weaker  and  weaker.”  First  came 
the  successful  inroad  into  Ish-bosheth’s  territory.  The 
single  combat,  the  rapid  pursuit,  are  told,  however, 
chiefly  for  their  connection  with  the  fortunes  of  two 
members  of  David’s  family.  That  fierce  chase  was  sadl} 
marked  by  the  death  of  his  nephew  Asahel,  Death  of 
who  there  put  to  the  last  stretch  his  antelope 
swiftness,  “ turning  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left 
for  any  meaner  prize  than  the  mighty  Abner.  Abner, 
with  the  lofty  generosity  which  never  deserts  him, 
chafes  against  the  cruel  necessity  which  forces  him  to 
slay  his  gallant  pursuer.  All  the  soldiers  halted,  sf.ruck 


1 See  Lecture  XXI. 


86 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XX  rii. 


dumb  with  grief  over  the  dead  body  of  their  young 
leader.  It  was  carried  back  and  buried  at  Bethlehem, 
in  their  ancestral  resting-place. 

It  is  now  that  Joab  first  appears  on  the  scene.  He 

was  the  eldest  and  the  most  remarkable  of 

David’s  nephews,  who,  as  we  have  shown,  stood 
to  him  rather  in  the  relation  of  cousin,  from  the  interval 
of  age  between  their  mother  and  David,  her  youngest 
brother.  Asahel  was  the  darling  of  his  brothers,,  and 
would  have  doubtless  won  a high  place  amongst  the 
heroes  of  his  youthful  uncle’s  army.  Abishai  was  thor- 
oughly loyal  and  faithful  to  David,  even  before  the 
adherence  of  Joab,  — like  Joab,  implacable  to  the  ene- 
mies of  the  royal  house  ; unlike  Joab,  faithful  to  the  end. 
But  Joab  with  those  ruder  qualities  combined  some- 
thing of  a more  statesmanlike  character,  which  brings 
him  more  nearly  on  a level  with  David,  and  gives  him 
the  second  place  in  the  whole  coming  history.  He  had 
lived  before,  it  may  be,  on  more  friendly  terms  than  the 
rest  of  his  family,  with  the  reigning  house  of  Saul.  He 
was  at  least  well  known  to  Abner.^  It  was  not  till  after 
the  death  of  Saul  that  he  finally  attached  himself  to 
David’s  fortunes.  The  alienation  was  sealed  by  the  death 
of  Asahel.  To  him,  whatever  it  might  be  to  Abishai,  it 
was  a loss  never  to  be  forgiven.  Keluctantly  he  had 
forborne  the  pursuit  after  Abner.  Eagerly  he  had  seized 
the  opportunity  of  Abner’s  visit  to  David,  decoyed  him 
to  the  interview  in  the  gateway  of  Hebron,  and  there 
treacherously  murdered  him.^  It  may  be  that  with  the 
passion  of  vengeance  for  his  brother’s  death  was  mingled 
the  fear  lest  Abner  should  supplant  him  in  the  royal 
favor.  He  was  forced  to  appear  with  all  the  signs  of 
mourning  at  the  funeral ; Joab  walked  before  the  corpse, 

1 2 Sam.  ii.  22,  26.  * Ibid.  ill.  27. 


Lect.  XXIII. 


REIGN  AT  HEBRON. 


87 


the  king  behind.  But  it  was  an  intimation  of  Joab’s 
power,  that  David  never  forgot.  am  this  day  weak, 
‘^though  anointed  king;  and  these  men,  the  sons  of 
Zeruiah,  are  too  hard  for  me : the  Lord  shall  reward 
the  doer  of  evil  according  to  his  wickedness.”  So  he 
hoped  in  his  secret  heart.  But  Joab’s  star  was  in  the 
ascendant;  he  was  already  at  the  head  of  David’s  band, 
and  a still  higher  prize  was  in  store  for  him. 

For  now  on  the  death  of  Ish-bosheth  the  throne,  so 
long  waiting  for  David,  was  at  last  vacant,  and  the 
united  voice  of  the  whole  people  at  once  called  him 
to  occupy  it.  A solemn  league  was  made  between  him 
and  his  people.^  For  the  second  time  David  was 
anointed  king,  and  a festival  of  three  days  celebrated 
the  joyful  event.^  His  little  band  had  now  swelled  into 
a great  host,  like  the  host  of  God.”  ^ It  was  formed 
by  contingents  from  every  tribe  of  Israel.  Two  are 
specially  mentioned  as  bringing  a weight  of  authority 
above  the  others.  The  sons  of  Issachar  had  “under* 
“ standing  of  the  times  to  know  what  Israel  ought  to 
“do,”  and  with  the  adjacent  tribes  contributed  to  the 
common  feast  the  peculiar  products  of  their  rich  ter- 
ritory.'^ The  Levitical  tribe,  formerly  represented  in 
David’s  following  only  by  the  solitary  fugitive  Abiathar, 
now  came  in  strength,  represented  by  the  head  of  the 
rival  branch  of  Eleazar,  the  aged  Jehoiada  and  his  youth- 
ful and  warlike  kinsman  Zadok.®  There  is  one  Psalm 
traditionally  referred  to  this  part  of  David’s  life.®  It  is 
that  which  opens  with  the  words  famous  as  the  motto 
of  our  own  famous  University:  “The  Lord  is  my 

1 2 Sam.  V.  3.  5 1 Chr.  xii.  27,  28,  xxvli.  5. 

* 1 Chr.  xii.  39.  ® Ps.  xxvii.  The  LXX  gives  as 

3 Ibid.  22.  the  title  “ Before  the  anointing.” 

* Ibid.  32,  40. 


88 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIII 


light ; ” and  the  courageous  and  hopeful  spirit  which 
it  breathes,  the  confident  expectation  that  a better  day 
was  at  hand,  whilst  it  lends  itself  to  the  manifold  ap- 
plications of  our  own  later  days,  well  serves  as  an  in- 
troduction to  the  new  crisis  in  the  history  of  David  and 
of  the  Jewish  Church  which  is  now  at  hand.  It  must 
have  been  with  no  common  interest  that  the  surround- 
mg  nations  looked  out  to  see  on  what  prey  the  Lion 
of  Judah,  now  about  to  issue  from  his  native  lair,  would 
make  his  first  spring. 

One  fastness  alone  in  the  centre  of  the  land  had 
Capture  of  hitlierto  defied  the  arms  of  Israel.  Long  after 
Jerusalem,  other  feuced  city  had  yielded,  the  fortress 

of  Jehus  remained  im]3regnable,  planted  on  its  rocky 
heights,  guarded  by  its  deep  ravines,  and  yet  capable 
on  its  northern  quarter  of  an  indefinite  expansion.  On 
this,  with  a singular  prescience,  David  fixed  as  his  new 
capital.  The  inhabitants  prided  themselves  on  their 
inaccessible  position.  Even  the  blind  and  the  lame, 
they  believed,  could  defend  it.  David,”  they  said, 
shall  never  come  up  hither.”  Herodotus^  compares 
Jerusalem  to  Sardis.  Like  Sardis  it  was  taken,  through 
the  neglect  of  the  one  point  which  nature  seemed  to 
have  guarded  sufficiently.  At  once  David  offered  the 
highest  prize  in  his  kingdom  — the  chieftainship  of  the 
army  — to  the  soldier  who  should  scale  the  precipice. 
Did  the  thought  cross  his  mind  (as  in  a darker  hour 
afterwards)  that  he  who  was  most  likely  to  make  the 
daring  attempt  would  perish,  and  thus  the  hard  yoke 
of  the  sons  of  Zeruiah  be  broken  ? We  knoAV  not.  To 
Joab,  as  we  see  from  all  his  preceding  and  subsequent 
conduct,  the  proffered  post  was  the  highest  object  of 
aml)ition.  With  the  agility  so  conspicuous  in  his  family 

1 If  we  may  so  interpret  Herod.  li.  ir>!),  iii.  5. 


Lkct.  XXIII. 


CAPTURE  OF  JERUSALEM. 


89 


— in  Asahel  his  brother,  and  in  David  his  uncle  — he 
clambered  up  the  cliff/  and  dashed  the  defenders  down, 
and  was  proclaimed  Captain  of  the  Host.^  What  be- 
came of  the  inhabitants  we  are  not  told.  But  appar- 
ently they  were  in  great  part  left  undisturbed.  A 
powerful  Jebusite  chief,  probably  the  king,^  with  his 
four  sons,  lived  on  property  of  his  own  immediately 
outside  the  walls.  But  the  city  itself  was  immediately 
occupied  as  the  capital  of  the  new  kingdom.  Fortifica- 
tions ^ were  added  by  the  king  and  by  J oab,  and  the 
city  immediately  became  the  royal  residence. 

From  that  moment,  we  are  told,  David  ^^went  on, 
going  and  growing,  and  the  Lord  God  of  Hosts  was 
with  him.”  The  neighboring  nations  were  partly  en- 
raged and  partly  awe-struck.  The  Philistines  made 
two  ineffectual  attacks  on  the  new  King,  and  a retalia- 
tion on  their  former  victories,  and  on  the  capture  of 
the  Ark,  took  place  by  the  capture  and  conflagration 
of  their  idols.^  Tyre,  now  for  the  first  time  appearing 
in  the  sacred  history,  allied  herself  with  Israel,  and  sent 
cedar-wood  for  the  building  of  the  new  capital.®  But 
the  occupation  of  Jerusalem  was  to  be  of  a yet  greater 
than  any  strategetical  or  political  significance. 

Those  only  who  reflect  on  what  Jerusalem  has  since 
been  to  the  world  can  appreciate  the  grandeur  consecration 
of  the  moment  when  it  passed  from  the  hands  Jerusalem, 
of  the  Jebusites,  and  became  ^Hhe  city  of  David.”  It 
was  to  be  the  inauguration  of  that  new  religious  develop- 

1 The  “ gutter perhaps  the  site  (Heb.  and  Ewald).  The  LXX. 

cullis  {Karal)^uKT7]c,  by  which' the  LXX.  and  Vulgate  omit  the  words, 
elsewhere  render  the  word).  See  ^ 2 Sam.  v.  9 ; 1 Chr.  xi.  8. 

Ewald,  iii.  157.  5 2 Sam.  v.  17-20;  1 Chr.  xiv.  8- 

2 1 Chr.  xi.  G.  12. 

3 Araunah  the  King  in  2 Sam.  xxiv.  ® 2 Sam.  v.  11;  1 Chr.  xiv.  1. 

?8,  is  elsewhere  Araunah  die  Jebu- 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIIl 


DO 

ment  of  the  Jewish  nation,  which  having  begun  with 
the  establishment  of  the  first  King,  now  received  the 
vast  impulse  which  continued  tili  the  overthrow  of  the 
monarchy.  This  impulse  was  given  by  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Ark  at  Jerusalem. 

The  Ark  was  still  in  exile.  It  was  detained  at  its 
first  halting-place,  Kirjath-jearim,  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  hills  of  Judah.  It  was  to  be  moved  in  state  to  the 
new  capital,  which,  by  its  reception,  was  to  be  con- 
secrated. Unhallowed  and  profane  as  the  city  had  been 
before,  it  was  now  to  be  elevated  to  a sanctity  which 
it  never  lost,  above  all  the  other  sanctuaries  of  the  land. 

Thy  birth  and  thy  nativity,”  says  Ezekiel,  in  address- 
ing Jerusalem,  is  of  the  land  of  Canaan:  thy  father 
was  an  Amorite,  and  thy  mother  an  Hittite.  And  as 
^^for  thy  nativity,  in  the  day  thou  wast  born  . . . thou 
wast  not  salted  at  all,  nor  swaddled  at  all  . . . thou  wast 
cast  out  in  the  open  field,  to  the  loathing  of  thy  person 
in  the  day  that  thou  wast  born.”  ^ This  unknown, 
obscure  heathen  city  was  now  to  win  the  name  which, 
Translation  ^vcn  to  tlic  Superseding  not  only  of  the  title  of 
of  the  Ark.  j of  j erusalem,  it  thenceforth  assumed 
and  bears  to  this  day  ^ The  Holy  City.”  At  Ephratah,' 
at  Bethlehem,  the  idea  of  making  this  great  transfer- 
ence had  occurred  to  David’s  mind.  The  festival  was 
one  which  exactly  corresponded  to  what  in  the  Middle 
A^ges  would  have  been  ^Hhe  Feast  of  the  Translation  ” 
of  some  great  relic,  by  which  a new  city  or  a new 
church  was  to  be  glorified.  Long  sleepless  nights  ^ had 
David  passed  in  thinking  of  it,  — ■ as  St.  Louis  of  the 
transport  of  the  Crown  of  Thorns  to  the  Royal  Chapel 

1 Ezek.  xvl.  3,  4,  5. 

2 El-Kho(Is.  Possibly  the  Kadytis 
Df  Herodotus  (li.  159  ; Hi.  5). 


3 Ps.  cxxxii.  6. 
**  iDid.  verse  4. 


Lbct.  XXIII. 


CONSECRATION  OF  JERUSALEM. 


9] 


of  Paris.  Now  the  time  was  come.  A national  as- 
sembly was  called  from  the  extremest  north  to  the 
extremest  south.^  The  King  went  at  the  head  of  his 
army^  to  find  the  lost  relic  of  the  ancient  religion. 
They  found  it  ” in  the  woods  which  gave  its  name  to 
Kirjath-jearimj  ^Hhe  city  of  the  woods,”  on  the  wooded  ^ 
hill  above  the  town,  in  the  house  of  Abinadab.  It  was 
removed  in  the  same  way  in  which  it  had  been  brought ; 
a car  or  cart,  newly  made  for  the  purpose,  drawn  by 
oxen,  dragged  it  down  the  rugged  path,  accompanied 
by  two  of  the  sons  of  Abinadab  ; the  third,  Eleazar, 
who  had  been  the  priest  of  the  little  sanctuary,  is  not 
now  mentioned.^  Of  these  Ahio  went  ^ before,  Uzzah 
guided  the  cart.  The  long  procession  went  down  the 
defile  with  music  of  all  kinds,  till  a sudden  halt  was 
made  at  a place  known  as  the  threshing-floor  of  Nachon, 
or  Chidon ; ® according  to  one  tradition,  the  spot  where 
Joshua  had  lifted  up  his  spear  against  Ai;  according  to 
another,  the  threshing-floor  of  Araunah,  close  to  Jeru- 
salem. At  this  point,  perhaps  slipping  on  the  smooth 
rock,  the  oxen  stumbled,  and  Uzzah  caught  hold  of  the 
Ark,  to  save  it  from  falling.  Suddenly  he  fell  down 
dead  by  its  side.  A long  tradition  has  connected  the 
going  forth  of  the  Ark  with  a terrible  thunder-storm ; 

1 From  the  Orontes  to  the  Nile  ^ Pg.  xxix.  1.  No  less  than  seven 

(1  Chr.  xiii.  5).  psalms,  either  in  their  traditional 

2 Variously  reported  as  30,000,  or  titles,  or  in  the  irresistible  evidence 

700,000  (LXX.).  of  their  contents,  bear  traces  of  this 

3 2 Sam.  vi.  3,  4,  Jiag-gibeah,  Auth.  festival.  The  29th  (by  its  title  in  the 

Vers.  Gibeah.  LXX.)  is  said  to  be  on  the  “ Going 

4 Ibid.  vi.  3.  Comp.  1 Sam.  vii.  1.  forth  of  the  tabernacle.”  As  “ the 

® Ibid.  vi.  4.  tabernacle  ” was  never  moved  from 

® See  the  various  readings  of  the  Gibeon  in  David’«  time,  “the  ark  ” is 

LXX.  and  Hebrew,  in  2 Sam.  vi.  6,  probably  meant.  Chandler  {Life  of 
1 Chr.  xiii.  9,  and  Joseph.  {Ant.  vii.  David,  ii.  211)  connects  the  thunder- 
4,  § 2).  storm  which  it  describes  with  the 


92 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIII 


and  another^  speaks  of  the  manner  of  Uzzah’s  death 
as  by  the  withering  of  his  arm  and  shoulder.  What 
ever  may  have  been  the  mode  of  his  death,  or  whatever 
the  unexplained  sin  or  error  which  was  believed  to 
have  caused  it,  the  visitation  produced  so  deep  a sen- 
sation, that,  with  a mixture  of  awe  and  mistrust,  David 
hesitated  to  go  on.  The  place  was  called  ^Hhe  Break- 
^‘ing  forth,”  or  the  Storm  of  Uzzah,”  and  the  Ark  was 
carried  aside  into  the  house  of  a native  of  Gath,  Obed- 
edom,  who  had  settled  within  the  Israelite  territory. 

After  an  interval  of  three  months,  David  again  made 
Entrance  of  attempt.  Tliis  time  the  incongruous,  un- 
authorized  conveyance  of  the  cart  was  avoided, 
and  the  Ark  was  carried,  as  on  former  days,  on  the 
shoulders  of  the  Levites.^  Every  arrangement  was 
made  for  the  music,  under  the  Levite  musicians  Heman, 
Asaph,  and  Ethan  or  Jeduthun,  and  Chenaniah  ^ the 
‘^master  of  the  song.”  Obed-edom  still  ministered  to 
the  Ark  which  he  had  guarded.  According  to  the 
Chronicles,  the  Priests  and  Levites,  under  the  two  heads 
of  the  Aaronic  family,^  figured  in  vast  state.  As  soon 
as  the  first  successful  start  had  been  made,  a double 
sacrifice  was  made.^  The  well-known  shout,  which  ac- 
companied the  raising  of  the  Ark  at  the  successive  move- 
ments in  the  wilderness,  was  doubtless  heard  once  more, 
— " Let  God  arise,  and  let  His  enemies  be  scattered.” 

death  of  Uzzah.  Comp.  Ps.  Ixviii.  (Sheminith  and  Alamoth)  also  appear 
7-33.  The  others  are  the  15th,  24th,  in  the  lists  of  those  mentioned  on  this 
30th,  68th,  132d,  141st.  Fragments  occasion  in  1 Chr.  xv.  20,  21. 
of  poetry  worked  up  into  psalms  (xcvi.  ^ Jerome,  Qu.  Heh.  on  1 Chr.  xili.  7. 

2-13,  cv.,  cvi.  1,  47,  48)  occur  In  1 * 2 Sam.  vi.  13;  1 Chr.  xv.  15. 

Chr.  xvl.  8-36,  as  having  been  de-  3 2 Sam.  vi.  15 ; 1 Chr.  xiii.  2,  x> 

Jvered  by  David  “ into  the  hands  of  16-22,  27. 

Asaph  and  his  brother”  after  the  close  ^ 1 Chr.  xv.  11. 

of  the  festival.  The  two  mysterious  * 2 Sam.  vi.  13;  1 Chr.  xv.  26 

terms  in  the  titles  of  Ps.  vi.  and  xlvi. 


Lkct.  XXIII. 


CONSECRATION  OF  JERUSALPLM. 


93 


Arise,  0 Lord,  into  Thy  rest ; Thou,  and  the  ark  of 
Thy  strength.”  ^ The  priests  in  their  splendid  dresses, 
the  two  rival  tribes  of  the  South,  Judah  and  Benjamin, 
the  two  warlike  tribes  of  the  North,  Zebulun  and  Naph- 
thali,^  are  conspicuous  in  the  procession.  David  himself 
was  dressed  in  the  white  linen  mantle  of  the  Priestly 
order;  and,  as  in  the  Prophetic  schools  where  he  had 
been  brought  up,  — and  as  still  in  the  colleges  of  east- 
ern Dervishes, — a wild  dance  formed  part  of  the  solem- 
nity. Into  this,  the  King  threw  himself  with  unusual 
enthusiasm:  his  heavy  royal  robe  was  thrown  aside; 
the  light  linen  ephod  appeared  to  the  by-standers  hardly 
more  than  the  slight  dress  of  the  Eastern^  dancers.  He 
himself  had  a harp  in  his  hand,  with  which  he  accom- 
panied the  dance.  It  may  be  that,  according  to  the 
Psalms  ascribed  to  this  epoch,  this  enthusiasm  expressed 
not  merely  the  public  rejoicing,  but  his  personal  feeling 
of  joy  at  the  contrast  between  the  depth  of  danger  — 
“ the  grave  ” as  it  seemed,  out  of  which  he  had  been 
snatched,  and  the  exulting  triumph  of  the  present  — 
the  exchange  of  sad  mourning  for  the  festive  dress  — 
of  black  sackcloth  for  the  white  cloak  of  gladness.'^ 
The  women  came  out  to  welcome  him  and  his  sacred 
charge,®  as  was  the  custom  on  the  return  from  victory. 
The  trumpets  pealed  loud  and  long,  as  if  they  were 
entering  a captured  city ; the  shout  as  of  a victorious 
host  rang  through  the  valleys  of  Hinnom  and  of  the 
Kedron,  and  as  they  wound  up  the  steep  ascent  which 
led  to  the  fortress.  Now  at  last  the  long  wanderings 
of  the  Ark  were  over.  The  Lord  hath  chosen  Zion ; 
^ lie  hath  desired  it  for  His  habitation.”  This  is  My 

4 Ps.  XXX.  9,  11. 

5 Ps.  Lxviii.  11  (Heb.),  25;  2 Sam. 
vi.  20. 


1 Ps.  lxviii.  1,  cxxxii.  8. 

* Ps.  cxxxii.  9,  lxviii.  27. 

• tlf  Tuv  opxovuivuv  (LXX.). 


94 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


lect.  xxm 


^ rest  for  ever  — here  will  I dwell,  and  delight  therein.” 
It  was  safely  lodged  within  the  new  Tabernacle  which 
David  had  erected  for  it  on  Mount  Zion,  to  supply 
the  place  of  the  ancient  tent  which  still  hngered  at 
Gibeon.^ 

It  was  the  greatest  day  of  David’s  life.  I’ts  signifi- 
cance in  his  career  is  marked  by  his  own  preeminent 
position  : Conqueror,  Poet,  Musician,  Priest,  in  one.  The 
sacrifices  were  offered  by  him ; the  benediction  both  on 
his  people  and  on  his  household  were  ^ pronounced  by 
him.  He  was  the  presiding  spirit  of  the  whole  scene. 
One  only  incident  tarnished  its  brightness.  Michal,  his 
wife,  in  the  proud,  we  may  almost  say,  conservative 
spirit  of  the  older  dynasty,  — not  without  a thought  of 
her  father’s  fallen  ^ house,  — poured  forth  her  contempt- 
uous reproach  on  the  king  who  had  descended  to  the 
dances  and  songs  of  the  Levitical  procession.  He  in 
reply  vowed  an  eternal  separation,  marking  the  intense 
solemnity  which  he  attached  to  the  festival. 

But  the  Psalms  which  directly  and  indirectly^  spring 
out  of  this  event  reveal  a deeper  meaning  than  the 
mere  outward  ritual.  It  was  felt  to  be  a turning-point 
in  the  history  of  the  nation.  It  recalled  even  the  great 
epoch  of  the  passage  through  the  wilderness.  It  awoke 
again  the  inspiriting  strains  of  the  heroic  career  ® of  the 
Judges.  Even  the  long  lines  of  the  Bashan  hills  where 
the  first  hosts  of  Israel  had  encamped®  beyond  the 
Jordan,  were  not  so  imposing  as  the  rocky  heights  of 
Zion.  Even  the  sanctity  of  Sinai,  with  its  myriads  of 
ministering  spirits,  is  transferred  to  this  new  and  vaster 

1 2 Sam.  vi.  17;  1 Chr.  xv.  1;  3 2 Sam.  vi.  21. 

2 Chr.  i.  3,  4.  4 For  these  see  note  7,  page  91 

2 2 Sam.  vi.  13,  17,  18,  20;  1 Chr.  ^ Ps.  Ixviii.  7-9;  comp.  Judges  v.  4 

xvi.  43.  6 Ibid.  22. 


Lbct.  XXIII. 


CONSECRATION  OF  JERUSALEM. 


95 


sanctuary.  The  long  captivity  of  the  Ark  in  Phillstia 

— that  sad  exile  which,  till  the  still  longer  and  sadder 
one  which  is  to  close  this  period  of  the  history,  was 
known  by  the  name  of  the  captivity  ” — was  now 
brought  to  an  end,  captivity  was  captive  led.”  ^ And 
accordingly,  as  the  Ark  stood  beneath  the  walls  of  the 
ancient  Jewish  fortress,  so  venerable  with  unconquered 
age,  the  summons  goes  up  from  the  procession  to  the 
dark  walls  in  front,  ^^Lift  up  your  heads,  0 ye  gates, 

and  be  ye  lift  up,  ye  everlasting  doors,  and  the  King 
^^of  Glory  shall  come  in.”  The  ancient,  everlasting 
gates  of  Jebus  are  called  to  lift  up  their  heads,  their  ^ 
portcullis  grates,  stiff  with  the  rust  of  ages.  They  are 
to  grow  and  rise  with  the  freshness  of  youth,  that  their 
height  may  be  worthy  to  receive  the  new  King  of 
Glory.  That  glory  which  fled  when  the  Ark  was  taken, 
and  when  the  dying  mother  exclaimed  over  her  new- 
born son,  Ichabod  1”  ^ was  now  returning.  From  the 
lofty  towers  the  warders  cry,  — Who  is  this  King  of 
“ Glory  ? ” The  old  heathen  gates  will  not  at  once  rec- 
ognize this  new-comer.  The  answer  comes  back,  as  if 
to  prove  by  the  victories  of  David  the  right  of  the 
name  to  Him  who  now  comes  to  His  own  a^ain,  The  name  of 

. ^ ^ the  “Lord of 

— Jehovah,  the  Lord,  the  Mighty  One,  Je-  Hosts.” 

“ HOVAH,  mighty  in  battle  ! ” and  again  by  this  proud 
title  admission  is  claimed : Lift  up  your  heads,  0 ye 

gates,  and  be  ye  lift  up,  ye  everlasting  doors,  and  the 

King  of  Glory  shall  come  in.”  Once  more  the  guar- 
dians of  the  gates  reply,  Who  is  this  King  of  Glory  ? ” 

I Ps.  Ixviii.  18.  In  the  title  of  the  of  the  ark  in  Philistia,  as  in  Judg.  xviii. 
LXX.,  Ps.  xcvi.  is  said  to  be  David’s,  30.  See  Lecture  XVII. 

“ when  the  house  was  built  after  the  2 xxiv.  7 (LXX.  and  Ewald). 
captivity.”  It  is  possible  that  by  “ the  3 i Sam.  iv.  21,  22.  See  Lecture 
captivity  ” may  be  meant  the  captivity  XYII. 


96 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIIl 


And  the  answer  comes  back,  — Jehovah  Sabaoth,  the 
“ Lord  of  Hosts,  Re  is  the  King  of  Glory.”  This  is  the 
solemn  inauguration  of  that  great  Name,  by  which  the 
Divine  Nature  was  especially  known  under  the  mon- 
archy. As,  before,  under  the  Patriarchs,  it  had  been 
known  as  Eloihm,  the  strong  ones,”  — as  through 
Moses,  it  had  been  Jehovah,  The  Eternal,  — so  now,  in 
this  new  epoch  of  civilization,  of  armies,  of  all  the  com- 
plicated machinery  of  second  causes,  of  Church  and 
State,  there  was  to  be  a new  name  expressive  of  the 
wider  range  of  vision  opening  on  the  mind  of  the 
people.  Not  merely  the  Eternal  solitary  existence  — 
but  the  Maker  and  Sustainer  of  the  host  of  Heaven 
and  earth  in  the  natural  world,  which,  as  we  see  in  the 
Psalms,^  were  now  attracting  the  attention  and  wonder 
of  men.  Not  merely  the  Eternal  Lord  of  the  solitary 
human  soul,  but  the  Leader  and  Sustainer  of  the  hosts 
of  battle,  of  the  hierarchy  of  war  and  peace  that 
gathered  round  the  court  of  the  kings  of  Israel.  The 
Greek  rendering  of  the  word  by  the  magnificent  Panto- 
crator^  all-conqueror,”  passed  through  the  Apocalypse  ^ 
into  Eastern  Christendom,  and  is  still  the  fixed  designa- 
tion by  which  in  Byzantine  churches  the  Redeemer  is 
represented  in  His  aspect  of  the  Mighty  Ruler  of  Man- 
kind. 

This  great  change  is  briefly  declared  in  correspond- 
ing phrase  in  the  historical  narrative,  which  tells  how 

David  brought  up  the  ark  of  God,  whose  name  is  called 
‘^by  the  name  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts  that  dwelleth  be- 
“ tween  the  cherubim ; and  he  blessed  the  people  in  the 
“name  of  the  Lord®  of  Hosts.”  This  was  indeed,  as  the 

1 See  Lecture  XXV.  Comp.  Isa.  3 2 Sam.  vi.  2,  18,  vii.  25,  26.  It 

Kxxi.  4,  xl.  26.  only  occurs  once  before,  1 Sam.  xviL 

2 Rev.  i.  8.  45 


Lsct.  XXIII.  CONSECRATION  OF  JERUSALEM.  97 

6 8th  Psalm  describes  it,  a second  Exodus.  David  was, 
on  that  day,  the  founder  not  of  Freedom  only,  but  of 
Empire,  — not  of  Religion  only,  but  of  a Church  and 
Commonwealth.  But  there  were  revelations  of  a yet 
loftier  kind  even  than  this  new  name  of  the  Leader  of 
the  armies  of  Israel.  The  name  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts 
as  revealed  in  the  close  of  the  24th  Psalm,  was  destined 
itself  to  fade  away  into  a dark  silence,  when  the  hosts 
had  ceased  to  fight,  and  the  empire  of  Israel  had  fallen 
to  pieces.  But  in  the  hopes  with  which  that  same 
Psalm  is  opened,  and  which  pervade  the  15th  and  the 
101st,  the  faith  of  David  takes  a still  higher  Moral  re- 
and  wider  sweep.  As  if  in  answer  to  the  cry  of  David, 
from  the  guardians  of  the  gates,  as  he  remembers  the 
tabernacle  which  he  had  raised  within  the  walls  of  his 
city  to  receive  the  ark  after  its  long  wanderings,  — as 
he  sees  its  magnificent  train  mounting  up  to  its  sacred 
tent  on  the  sacred  rock,  — the  thought  rises  within  him 
of  those  who  shall  hereafter  be  the  citizens  of  the  cap- 
ital thus  consecrated,  and  he  asks,  — Who  shall  ascend 
^^into  the  mount  of  Jehovah?  who  shall  stand  in  His 
holy  place  ? Who  shall  abide  in  Thy  tabernacle  ? who 
shall  dwell  in  Thy  holy  tent  ? ” The  question  is  twice 
asked,  the  reply  is  twice  given.  " He  that  hath  clean 
hands  and  a pure  heart ; who  hath  not  lifted  up  his 
soul  unto  vanity,  nor  sworn  to  deceive  his  neighbor.” 
He  that  walketh  uprightly,  and  worketh  righteousness, 
and  speaketh  the  truth  from  his  heart.  He  that  back- 
•^biteth  not  with  his  tongue,  nor  doeth  evil  to  his 
“ neighbor,  nor  taketh  up  a reproach  against  his  neigh- 
"bor.  He  that  despiseth  a vile  person,  but  honoreth 
“ them  that  fear  J ehovah.  He  that  sweareth  to  his  own 
“hurt,  and  changeth  not.  He  that  putteth  not  out  his 
“money  unto  usury,  nor  taketh  reward  against  the 

7 


VOL.  II 


98 


THE  KEIGN  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXllI 


‘innocent.  He  that  doeth  these  things  shall  never 
Of  these  tests  for  the  entrance  into  David’s 
city  and  David’s  church,  one  only  has  become  obsolete 

— that  of  not  receiving  usury.  All  the  rest  remain  in 
force  still ; nay,  it  may  even  be  said  that  the  one  quah- 
hcation  repeated  in  so  many  forms,  of  the  duty  of  truth 

— even  in  Christian  times  has  hardly  been  recognized 
with  equal  force,  as  holding  the  exalted  place  which 
David  gives  to  it.  And  what  he  asks  for  the  citizens  of 
his  new  capital,  he  asks  for  the  courtiers  and  statesmen 
of  his  new  court.  For  when  at  length  the  day  is  past, 
and  he  finds  himself  in  his  own  Palace,  he  there  lays 
down  for  himself  the  rules  by  which  ‘‘  he  will  walk  in 
‘‘his  house  with  a perfect  heart.”  The  101st  Psalm  was 
one  beloved  by  the  noblest  of  Russian  princes,  Vladimir 
Monomachos;  by  the  gentlest  of  English  Reformers, 
Nicholas  Ridley.  But  it  was  its  first  leap  into  life  that 
has  carried  it  so  far  into  the  future.  It  is  full  of  a stern 
exclusiveness,  of  a noble  intolerance.  But  not  against 
theological  error,  not  against  uncourtly  manners,  not 
against  political  insubordination,  but  against  the  proud 
heart,  the  high  look,  the  secret  slanderer,  the  deceitful 
worker,  the  teller  of  lies.  These  are  the  outlaws  from 
Kino:  David’s  court ; these  alone  are  the  rebels  and  her- 
etics  whom  he  would  not  suffer  to  dwell  in  his  house  or 
tany  in  his  sight.  “ Mine  eyes  shall  be  upon  the  faith- 
“ ful  of  the  land,  that  they  may  dwell  with  me ; he  that 
“walketh  in  a perfect  way,  he  shall  be  my  servant.  I 
“will  early  destroy  all  the  wicked  of  the  land,  that 
“I  may  cut  off  all  wicked  doers  from  the  city  of  the 
“ Lord.”  ^ Many  have  been  the  holy  associations  with 
which  the  name  of  Jerusalem  has  been  invested  in 
Apocalyptic  visions  and  Christian  hymns,  but  they  have 

1 Ps  XV.,  xxi.  ® Ps.  ci.  6-8. 


UcT.  XXIIl 


EMPIRE  OF  DAVID. 


09 


their  fii'st  historical  ground  in  the  sublime  aspirations 
of  its  first  Royal  Founder. 

How  far  this  high  ideal  was  realized  — how  far  lost, 
will  be  seen  as  we  proceed  through  the  tangled  history 
of  the  court  and  empire  of  Israel. 

The  erection  of  the  new  capital  at  Jerusalem  intro- 
duces us  to  a new  era,  not  only  in  the  inward  of 
hopes  of  the  Prophet-King,  but  in  the  external 
history  of  the  monarchy.  Up  to  this  time  he  had  been 
a chief,  such  as  Saul  had  been  before  him,  or  as  the 
kings  of  the  neighboring  tribes,  each  ruling  over  his 
territory,  unconcerned  with  any  foreign  relations  except 
so  far  as  was  necessary  to  defend  his  own  nation  or  tribe. 
But  David,  and  through  him  the  Israelitish  monarchy, 
now  took  a wider  range.  He  became  a King  on  the 
scale  of  the  great  Oriental  sovereigns  of  Egypt  and 
Persia,  with  a regular  administration  and  organization 
of  court  and  camp ; and  he  also  founded  an  imperial 
dominion  which  for  the  first  time  realized  the  Patri- 
archal description^  of  the  bounds  of  the  chosen  people. 
This  imperial  dominion  was  but  of  short  duration,  con- 
tinuing only  through  the  reigns  of  David  and  his  suc- 
cessor Solomon.  But,  for  the  period  of  its  existence,  it 
lent  a peculiar  character  to  the  sacred  history.  For 
once,  the  kings  of  Israel  were  on  a level  with  the  great 
potentates  of  the  world.  David  was  an  imperial  con- 
queror, if  not  of  the  same  magnitude,  yet  of  the  same 
kind,  as  Rameses  or  Sennacherib.  I have  made  thee  a 
great  name  like  unto  the  name  of  the  great  men  that 
are  in  the  earth.”  Thou  hast  shed  blood  abundantly 
“ and  made  great  wars.”  ^ And  as,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
external  relations  of  life,  and  the  great  incidents  of  war 
and  conquest  receive  an  elevation  by  their  contact  with 

1 Gen.  XV.  18' 21.  ^2  Sam.  vii.  9 ; 1 Chr.  xxii.  8. 


IOC 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID.  • 


Lecf.  XXIII 


the  religious  history,  so  the  religious  history  swells  into 
larger  and  broader  dimensions  from  its  contact  with  the 
course  of  the  outer  world.  The  enlargement  of  ter- 
ritory, the  amplification  of  power  and  state,  leads  to  a 
corresponding  enlargement  and  amplification  of  ideas, 
of  imagery,  of  sympathies;  and  thus  (humanly  speak- 
ing) the  magnificent  forebodings  of  a wider  dispensation 
in  the  Prophetic  writings  first  became  possible  through 
the  court  and  empire  of  David. 

The  general  organization  of  the  kingdom  now  estab- 
Organiza-  lished,  lasted  to  the  end  of  the  monarchy  of 

tiojj  of  the  i-i  -i-v'.T  ir*  ^ ^ 

kingdom,  which  David  was  the  founder. 

(1.)  At  the  head  of  it  was  the  Royal  Family,  the 
House  of  David.  The  princes  were  under  the 
Family.  charge  of  a governor  named  Jehiel,^  perhaps  a 
Levite,^  except  Solomon,  who  (according  at  least  to  one 
rendering)  was  under  the  charge  of  Nathan.^  David 
himself  was  surrounded  by  a royal  state  unknown  be- 
fore. He  was  the  Chief  or  “ Patriarch  ” of  the  dynasty.^ 
He  had  his  own  royal  mule,  especially  known  as  such.^ 
He  had  his  royal  seat  or  throne,  in  a separate  chamber 
or  gateway  in  the  palace.®  The  highest  officers  of  the 
court,  even  the  Prophets,  did  not  venture  into  his  pres- 
ence without  previous  announcement ; ^ when  they  did 
enter,  it  was  with  the  profoundest  obeisance  and  pros- 
tration.® His  followers,  who  up  to  the  time  of  his  acces- 
sion had  been  called  his  young  men,”  his  companions,” 
henceforth  became  his  servants,”  his  slaves.”^  He 
ho,d  the  power  of  dispensing  even  with  the  funda- 
mental laws  and  usages  of  the  Jewish  commonwealth. 


1 1 Clir.  xxvii.  32. 
a Ibid.  XV.  21  ; 2 Chr.  xx.  14. 

3 2 Sam.  xil.  25. 

4 Acts  ii.  29. 

» 1 Kings  i.  33. 

9 Ibid.  35,  46  ; comp.  2 Sam.  xv.  2. 


7 1 Kings  i.  23. 

8 2 Sam.  ix.  6,  xiv.  4,  22,  33,  xviii 
28,  xix.  18;  1 Kings  i.  16,  23,  31. 

a See  article  Kliianan  in  the  />io. 
(ionnn/  of  the  JUhle. 
l®  2 Sam.  xiii.  13,  xiv.  11,  19. 


L«ot.  XXIII. 


ITS  ORGANIZATION. 


101 


(2.)  The  military  organization,  which  was  in  par* 

inherited  from  Saul,  but  greatly  developed  by  Military  or 
David,  was  as  follows  : — ganization. 

(a.)  The  Host  ” was  the  whole  available  military 
force  of  Israel,  consisting  of  all  males  capable 
of  bearing  arms,  and  was  summoned  only  for 
war.  There  were  twelve  divisions  who  were  held  to  be 
on  duty  month  by  month ; and  over  each  of  them  pre- 
sided an  officer,  selected  for  this  purpose,  from  the  other 
military  bodies  formed  by  David.^  The  army  was  still 
distinguished  from  those  of  surrounding  nations  by  its 
primitive  aspect  of  a force  of  infantry  without  cavalry. 
The  only  innovations  as  yet  allowed  were,  the  introduc- 
tion of  a very  limited  number  of  chariots,^  and  of 
mules  for  the  princes  and  officers  instead  of  the  asses.® 
According  to  a Mussulman  tradition,^  David  invented 
chain  armor.  The  usual  weapons  were  still  spears  and 
shields,^  though  with  large  bodies  of  archers  and  sling- 
ers.  The  commander  in  chief  of  the  army  was  an  office 
already  recognized  under  Saul,  when  it  was  held  by 
Abner.®  But  it  reached  its  full  grandeur  in  the  person 
of  Joab,  to  whom  it  was  given  as  the  prize  for  the  es- 
calade of  Jerusalem.  He  had  a chief  armor-bearer  of 
his  own  (Naharai  a Beerothite),"^  and  ten  attendants  to 
carry  his  baggage.®  He  had  the  charge,  formerly  be- 
longing to  the  king  or  judge,  of  giving  the  signal  by 
trumpet,®  for  advance  or  retreat.  He  commanded  the 


J 1 Chr.  xxvii.  1-15. 

2 2 Sam.  viii.  4. 

3 Ibid.  xili.  29,  xviii.  9. 

4 Koran^  xxi.  80.  Comp,  the  le- 
gends in  Weil’s  Legends^  p.  155,  and 
Lane’s  Selections  from  the  Koran^  p. 
229.  Thus  a good  coat  of  mail  is 


often  called  by  the  Arabs  “ Dd,oodee,” 
t.  e.  Davidean. 

5 Ps.  XXXV.  2,  3;  1 Chr.  xii.  24^ 
34,  &c. 

6 See  Lecture  XX. 

7 2 Sam.  xxiii.  37;  1 Chr.  xL  S9. 

8 2 Sam.  xviii.  15. 


102 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


LEcr.  XXm 


army  in  tlie  king’s  absence.^  He  was  called  by  the 
almost  royal  title  of  ^Hord,”  or  prince  of  the  king’s 

army.”  ^ He,  with  the  King,  assisted  in  the  fortificar 
tion  of  the  city.  He,  with  the  King,  supplied  offerings 
to  the  sacred  treasury.  His  usual  residence  was  in  Je- 
rusalem, but  he  had  a house  and  property  with  barley- 
fields  adjoining  on  the  edge  ^ of  the  Jordan  Wilderness, 
near  an  ancient  sanctuary,  Baal-hazor,  where  Absalom 
had  extensive  sheep-walks.  The  “ sons  of  Joab  ” were 
to  be  found  as  a separate  class  ^ after  the  captivity. 

(^.)  The  body-guard  also  had  existed  in  the  court  of 
The  body-  Saui,  and  David  himself  had  probably  been  its 
guard.  commanding  officer.^  But  it  now  assumed  a 
peculiar  form.  They  v/ere  at  least  in  name  foreigners, 
as  having  been  drawn  from  the  Philistines,  probably 
during  David’s  residence  at  the  court  of  Gath.  They 
are  usually  called  from  this  circumstance  Cherethites 

and  Pelethites,”  that  is  Cretans  ® and  refugees,”  but 
had  also  ^ a body  especially  from  Gath  ® amongst  them, 
of  whom  the  name  of  one,  Ittai,  is  preserved.  The 
captain  of  the  force  was,  however,  not  only  not  a for- 
eigner, but  an  Israelite  of  the  highest  distinction  and 
purest  descent,  who  outlived  David,  and  became  the 
chief  support  of  the  throne  of  his  son,  — namely,  Be- 
naiah,  son  of  the  chief  priest  Jehoiada,  repre- 
sentative of  the  eldest  branch  of  Aaron’s  house.® 
Three  mighty  exploits  appear  to  have  gained  this  high 

1 2 Sam.  xii.  26,  27.  7 A tradition  in  Jerome  {Qu.  Heh. 

2 Ibid.  xl.  11;  1 Chr.  xxvii.  34.  on  1 Chr.  xvlii.  17)  speaks  of  their 

3 2 Sam.  xiv.  30,  xiii.  23;  1 Kings  being  in  the  place  of  the  seventy 

ii.  34.  judges  appointed  by  Moses. 

♦ Neh.  vii.  11.  ^2  Sarn.  xv.  19.  But  here  the 

5 See  1 Sam.  xxii.  14  (Ilebr.) ; reading  is  doubtful  (EwaM,  iii.  177, 

Ewald  iii.  98.  note').  See  Lecture  XXIV. 

* See  Lectures  XVI.  and  XXXVI.  ^ 2 Sam.  viii.  18,  xx.  23  ; 2 Kirga  i 

38,  44. 


tXCT.  XXIII. 


ITS  ORGANIZATION. 


103 


place  for  him,  as  Joab’s  had  been  secured  by  the  cap- 
ture of  Jerusalem.  He  attacked  two  heroes  ^ or  princes 
of  Moab.  He  encountered  a lion  ^ which  a snow-storm 
had  driven  to  take  refuge  in  a cistern  or  pitfall,  where 
none  but  Benaiah  ventured  to  penetrate.  He  fought 
with  a gigantic  Egyptian,  whose  spear  was  so  huge  that 
it  seemed  ^ like  a tree  thrown  across  a ravine.  This  the 
Israelite  soldier  forced  from  his  hand,  and,  like  another 
David,  slew  the  giant  with  his  own  weapon. 

((?.)  The  most  peculiar  military  institution  in  David’s 
army  was  that  which  arose  out  of  the  peculiar  circum- 
stances of  his  early  life.  As  the  nucleus  of  the  Russian 
army  is  the  Preobaj insky  regiment  formed  by  Peter  the 
Great  out  of  the  companions  who  gathered  round  him 
in  the  suburb  of  that  name  in  Moscow,  so  the  nucleus 
of  what  afterwards  became  the  only  standing  army  in 
David’s  forces  was  the  band  of  600  men  who 
had  gathered  round  him  in  his  wanderings. 

The  number  of  600  was  still  preserved,  with  the  name 
of  Gihhorim,  heroes”  or  mighty  men.”  It  became 
yet  further  subdivided  ^ into  three  large  bands  of  200 
each,  and  small  bands  of  twenty  each.  The  small  bands 
were  commanded  by  thirty  officers,  one  for  each  band, 
who  together  formed  the  thirty,”  and  the  three  large 
bands  by  three  officers,  who  together  formed  the  three,” 
and  the  whole  by  one  chief,  the  captain  of  the  mighty 

men.”  ^ This  commander  of  the  whole  force  was  Abi- 
shai,  David’s  nephew.®  “The  three ” were  Jashobeam ^ 

1 2 Sam.  xxiii.  20,  “ Sons  of  Ariel"  4 See  Ewald,  iii.  178,  for  the  whole 
(possibly  the  King  of  Moab),  or  “ lion-  of  this  arrangement. 

like  men.”  5 2 Sam.  xxiii.  8-39 ; 1 Chr.  xi, 

2 Ibid.  See  Joseph.  (An/,  vii.  12,  9-47. 

4).  6 1 Chr.  xi.  20;  and  corap.  2 Sam. 

3 2 Sam.  xxiii  20  (LXX.).  xvi.  9. 

7 1 Chr.  xi.  11. 


104 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


lect.  xxm 


or  Adino/  Eleazar,^  and  Shammah.^  Of  thirty,” 

Bome  few  only  are  known  to  fame  elsewhere.  Asahel, 
David’s^  nephew;  Elhanan,  the  victor  of  at  least  one 
Goliath;^  Joel,  the  brother  or  son  of  Nathan;®  Na- 
harai,  the  armor-bearer  of  Joab;^  Eliam,®  the  son  of 
Ahithophel;  Ira,  one  of  David’s^  priests;  Uriah  the 
Hittite.i® 

(3.)  Side  by  side  with  this  military  organization  were 
Officers  of  established  new  social  and  moral  institutions, 
state.  Some  were  entirely  for  pastoral,  agricultural, 
and  financial  purposes,^'  others  for  judicial.^  Each 
tribe  had  its  own  head.^®  Of  these  the  most  remark- 
able were  Elihu,  David’s  brother  (probably  Eliab),  prince 
of  Judah,  and  Jaasiel,  son  of  Abner,  of  Benjamin.^^  In 
the  court  or  council  of  the  King  were  the  counsellors, 
Ahithophel  of  Giloh,  and  J onathan,^®  the  King’s  nephew, 
both  renowned  for  their  marvellous  sagacity ; the  com- 
panion or  friend,”  Hushai,^®  and,  at  the  close  of  the 
reign,  perhaps  Shimei ; the  scribe  or  secretary  of  state, 
Sheva  or  Seraiah,  and  at  one  time  Jonathan,^®  David’s 
uncle ; Jehoshaphat,  the  recorder  or  historian,^®  and  Ado- 


1 2 Sara,  xxiii.  8. 

2 1 Chr  xi.  12;  2 Sara,  xxiii.  9. 

* 2 Sam.  xxiii.  1 1 ; the  LXX.  (verse 
8)  make  them  : (1)  Isboseth  the 
Canaanite;  (2)  Adino  the  Asonite; 
(3)  Eleazar,  son  of  Dodo. 

4 1 Chr.  xi.  26;  2 Sam.  ii.  18. 

* 1 Chr.  xi.  26;  2 Sam.  x.\i.  19. 

• 1 Chr.  xi.  38,  the  LXX.  has 
‘*8on.” 

7 Ibid.  xi.  39;  2 Sam.  xxiii.  37. 

® 2 Sam.  xxiii.  34. 

• 1 Chr.  XI.  40;  2 Sam.  xxiii.  38, 

K.  26. 

t®  1 Chr.  xi.  41  ; 2 Sam.  xxiii.  39, 

u.  3,  &c. 


11  1 Chr.  xxvii.  25-31. 

12  Ibid.  xxvi.  29-32. 

13  Ibid,  xxvii.  16-22. 

14  Ibid.  18,  21. 

15  Ibid.  32,  33. 

16  Ibid.  33;  Sam.  xv.  37,  xvi.  19. 

1“^  Joseph.  Ant  vii.  14,  § 4.  Possi- 
bly Shimeah,  David’s  brother  (Ewald, 
iii.  226).  In  the  Persian  court,  the 
king’s  Hadeem  or  “ playfellow.” 

18  2 Sam.  XX.  25 ; 1 Chr.  xxvii.  32. 

>8  2 Sam.  XX.  24.  As  in  the  court 
of  Xerxes  (Herod,  vii.  100,  viiL  90) 
and  of  the  modern  Shah. 


t*CT.  XXIII.  - ITS  ORGANIZATION.  Kj  j 

ram  or  Adoniram,  the  tax  collector,  both  of  whom  sm* 
vived  him.^ 

But  the  more  peculiar  of  David’s  institutions  were 
those  directly  bearing  on  religion.  Two  Proph- 
ets  appear  as  the  King’s  constant  advisers.  Of 
these,  Gad,  who  seems  to  have  been  the  elder,  had  been 
David’s  companion  in  exile ; and  his  title,  the  Seer,” 
belongs  probably  to  the  earliest  form  of  the  Prophetic 
schools.  Nathan,  who  appears  for  the  first  time  after 
the  establishment  of  the  kingdom  at  Jerusalem,  is  dis- 
tinguished both  by  his  title  of  the  Prophet,”  and  by 
the  nature  of  the  prophecies  which  he  utters,^  as  be- 
longing to  the  purest  type  of  the  Prophetic  dispensa- 
tion, and  as  the  hope  of  the  new  generation,^  which  he 
supports  in  the  person  of  Solomon.  Two  High-Priests 
also  appear  — representatives  of  the  two  rival  ^ 

houses  of  Aaron.^  Here  again,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  two  Prophets,  one,  Abiathar,  who  had  been  the 
companion  of  David’s  exile,  and  was  by  his  race  con- 
nected with  the  old  time  of  the  Judges;^  the  other 
Zadok,  joining  him  after  the  death  of  Saul,  and  becom- 
ing afterwards  the  support  of  his  son,  who  thus  became 
ultimately  the  head  of  the  Aaronic  ^ family.  Abiathar, 
probably  for  old  affection’s  sake,  attended  the  King  at 
Jerusalem;  Zadok  still  ministered  by  the  ancient  taber- 
nacle at  Gibeon.^  Besides  these  four  great  religious 
functionaries  there  were  two  classes  of  subordinates,  — 
Prophets,  specially  instructed  in  singing  and  music, 
under  Asaph,  Heinan  the  grandson  of  Samuel,  and  Je- 

1 2 Sam.  XX.  24  ; 1 Kings  xii.  18,  4 i Chr.  xxiv.  3. 

iv.  3,  6.  5 xxvii.  34  ; comp.  Blunt, 

2 2 Sam.  vii.  3,  5-17,  xii.  1-14.  Undes.  Coincid.  II.  xv 

(LXX.)  8 Ibid,  xxvii.  17. 

* Ibid.  xii.  25;  1 Kings  i.  11-44.  7 Jbid.  xvi.  39 

Bee  Lecture  XXVI. 


106 


TUB  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


leot.  xxm 


duthim ; ^ and  Levites,  or  attendants  on  the  sanctuary, 
who  again  were  subdivided  into  the  guardians  of  the 
gates, ^ and  guardians  of  the  treasures  which  had  been 
accumulated,  since  the  reestablishment  of  the  nation, 
by  Samiiel,  Saul,  Abner,  Joab,  and  David  himself.^  One 
singular  character  is  added  to  this  group  by  Mussulman 
traditions,  the  half-fabulous  sage  Lokman  — the 

Lokman.  . , ° . 

Ethiopian  slave,  renowned  for  his  wise  proverbs, 
who,  whilst  seated  amongst  the  grandees  of  David’s 
court,  when  asked  how  he  had  attained  such  eminence, 
replied,  By  always  speaking  the  truth,  by  always  keep- 
ing  my  word,  and  by  never  meddling  in  matters  that 
" did  not  concern  me.”  ^ 

The  collection  of  these  various  ministers  and  repre- 
sentatives of  worship  round  the  capital  must  have  given 
a concentrated  aspect  to  the  history  in  David’s  time, 
such  as  it  had  never  borne  before.  But  the  main  pecu- 
liarity of  the  whole  must  have  been,  that  it  so  well 
harmonized  with  the  character  of  him  who  was  its  cen- 
tre. As  his  early  martial  life  still  placed  him  at  the 
head  of  the  military  system  which  had  sprung  up  around 
him,  so  his  early  education  and  his  natural  disposition 
placed  him  at  the  head  of  his  own  religious  institutions. 
Himself  a Prophet  and  Psalmist,  he  was  one  in  heart 
with  those  whose  advice  he  sought,  and  whose  arts  he 
Religious  fostered.  And,  more  remarkably  still,  though 
of  David!^  uot  liimself  a Priest,  he  yet  assumed  almost  all 
the  functions  usually  ascribed  to  the  priestly  office.  He 
wore,  as  we  have  seen,  the  priestly  dress,  offered  the 
sacrifices,  gave  the  priestly  benediction;®  he  walked 
round  about  the  altar  in  sacred®  processions;  and,  as 

1 1 Chr.  XXV.  5 2 Sam.  vi.  14,  17,  18. 

2 Ibid.  xxvi.  1-19.  6 Pg.  xxvl.  6 (If  the  title  may  b« 

3 Ibid  xxvi.  20-28.  Irnstod.  Sec  Perowne). 

4 D'llerbelot,  “ Loeman  al-hakim.’' 


Lect  XXIII. 


HIS  WARS. 


107 

if  to  include  his  whole  court  within  the  same  sacerdotal 
sanctity,  Benaiah  the  captain  of  his  guard  was  a priest^ 
by  descent,  and  joined  in  the  sacred^  music;  David 
himself  and  ^Hhe  captains  of  the  host”  arranged  the 
Prophetical  duties  and  fixed  the  festivals ; ^ and  his  sons 
as  well  as  one  of  his  chief  functionaries,  Ira  the  Manas- 
site,^  are  actually  called  priests.”^  Such  a union  was 
never  seen  before  or  since  in  the  Jewish  history.  Even 
Solomon  fell  below  it  in  some  important  points.  Chris- 
tian sovereigns  have  rarely  ventured  on  so  direct  a 
control.  But  the  supremacy  of  David  is  a fact  which 
cannot  be  overlooked.  What  the  heathen  historian 
Justin  antedates  by  referring  it  back  to  Aaron,  is  a 
true  description  of  the  effect  of  the  reign  of  David: 

Sacerdos  mox  rex  creator : semperque  exinde  hie  mos 
^^apud  JudoBos  fuit,  ut  eosdem  reges  et  sacerdotes  liar 
^‘'berent;  quantum  justitia  religione  permixta,  incredi- 
^^bile  quantum  coaluere.”®  How  profound  was  that 
union  of  justice”  and  religion”  — to  the  heathen  so 
incredible  — we  have  already  seen. 

As  in  peace,  so  in  war,  this  union  of  religious  and 
secular  greatness  was  continued.  It  was  as  Founder  of 
the  Israelitish  Empire  even  more  than  as  Founder  of 
the  royal  dynasty  or  of  the  order  of  Psalmists,  that 
David  seemed  in  the  eyes  of  his  contemporaries  to  be 

the  Light  and  the  Splendor  of  Israel.”  ^ It  was  as  Con- 
queror, even  more  than  as  Ruler,  that  he  especially  ap- 

1 6 lepEvg  T(j  yevei  (Joseph.  Ant.  vii.  5 2 Sam.  viii.  18;  1 Chr.  xviii.  17, 

12,  §4);  2 Sam.  viii.  18.  {cohanim)  translated  by  the  A.  V. 

2 1 Chr.  xxvii.  5,  xvi.  6.  “chief  rulers.” 

3 Ibid.  XXV.  1 ; Ecclus.  xlvii.  9,  10.  ® Justin,  Hist,  xxxvi.  2. 

4 2 Sam.  XX.  26  translated  ^ 2 Sam.  xxi.  17;  1 Kings  xi.  38i 

in  the  A V.  “ chief  ruler,”  but  by  the  xv.  4 ; Ps.  cxxxii.  1 7. 

CXX.  “ Priest.” 


108 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIII 


pears  as  the  Messiah^  the  Anointed  one.  It  is  in  his 
order  of  battle,  even  more  than  in  his  religious  pro- 
cessions, that  the  Ruler  of  Israel  — whether  David  or 
David’s  descendant  — appears  as  the  Priestly  King. 
When  he  is  addressed  as  a Priest,  though  not  of  Le- 
vitical  descent,  — a Priest  bursting  through  all  the 
common  regulations  of  the  Priesthood,  — an  immor- 
tal Priest  like  the  ancient  Melchizedek,  — it  is  as  the 
mighty  Leader  who  is  to  trample,  like  Joshua,  on  the 
necks  of  his  enemies,  who  is  to  be  surrounded  by  his 
armies,  numerous  and  fresh  and  brilliant  as  the  drops 
of  the  morning  dew,  striking  through  kings  in  the  day 
of  his  wrath,  filling  his  pathway  with  the  corpses  of 
the  dead,  wounding  the  heads  of  many  countries,  re- 
freshed as  he  passes  by  the  watercourse  which  divides 
country  from  country,  and  going  on  with  his  head  aloft, 
conqueiing  and  to  conquer.^  This  was  the  foundation 
of  that  resplendent  image  of  the  Messiah,  which  it 
required  the  greatest  of  all  religious  changes  to  move 
from  the  mind  of  the  Jewish  nation,  in  order  to  raise 
up  instead  of  it  the  still  more  exalted  idea  which  was 
to  take  its  place,  — an  Anointed  Sovereign  conquering 
by  other  arts  than  those  of  war,  and  in  other  domin- 
ions than  those  of  earthly  empire. 

To  understand  how  deeply  this  imagery  is  fixed  in 
David’s  life,  we  must  briefly  pass  through  the  wars  in 
which  the  dominions  of  David  assumed  their  new  pro- 
portions. 

His  first  conquests  were  over  the  Philistines.  Two 
Philistine  battles  immediately  following  on  the  occupation 
of  Jerusalem  have  been  already  noticed.  But 

1 The  word  is  applied  to  David  in  xvlii.  50,  xxviii.  8,  Ixxxix.  20,  88, 
2 Sam.  xix.  21,  xxii.  51,  xxili.  1,  Ps.  cxxxii.  17. 

2 Ps.  ex.  1 (see  Ewald,  iii.  202). 


L*ct.  XXIII. 


HIS  WARS. 


109 


the  complete  reduction  of  the  country  was  effected  by 
the  capture  of  Gath,  and  was  the  longest  remembered. 
It  was  the  scene  of  his  own  exile,  and  the  chief  of  the 
five  towns  of  Philistia,  and  was  regarded  as  the  key  of 
the  whole  country.^  In  the  encounters  which  took 
place  round  this  famous  city  may  have  occurred  the 
adventurous  single  combats^  between  the  warriors  of 
David’s  army  and  the  gigantic  champions  of  Gath,  which 
repeat  his  own  first  achievement.  His  nephew  Jona- 
than, who  must  have  been  but  a youth,  almost  exactly 
reenacts  the  original  combat.  It  would  seem  that  these 
were  also  the  last  occasions  on  which  these  personal 
displays  of  his  prowess  were  made.  He  had  so  nar- 
rowly escaped,  by  the  intervention  only  of  his  nephew 
Abishai,  that  henceforth  he  was  kept  out  of  the  direct 
battle,  lest  he  should  extinguish  the  torch  that  lighted 
Israel  on  its  way  to  victory.^ 

The  next  war  was  with  the  hitherto  friendly  state  of 
Moab,  apparently  in  the  depth  of  winter.^  It  Moabite 
is  a Jewish  tradition  that  the  King  of  Moab 
broke  the  trust  which  David  had  reposed  in  him,  and 
put  to  death  the  aged  parents  confided  to  his  charge.® 
The  invention  of  such  a reason,  if  it  be  an  invention, 
implies  a sense  that  some  explanation  was  needed  of 
(lie  vengeance,  so  terrible  in  its  results,  though  so  briefly 
reported,  which  exterminated  one  third  of  the  nation,® 


1 This  (whatever  be  the  precise 
meaning  of  Metheg-ammah)  must  be 
the  general  sense  of  2 Sam.  viii.  1, 
and  1 Chr.  xviil.  1.  See  Ecclus. 
dvii.  7. 

2 2 Sam.  xxi.  15-22;  1 Chr.  xx. 
4-8. 

3 2 Sam.  xxi.  17.  It  has  been 
argued,  from  2 Sam.  x.  18,  xii.  29, 


that  this  must  have  been  later  in 
David’s  life.  But  there  is  no  proof 
that  in  the  Ammonite  wars  he  was 
engaged  in  personal  conflict. 

* 2 Sam.  xxiii.  20. 

3 See  Lecture  XXII.  See  the  quo- 
tations in  Meyer,  Seder  Olam^  525. 

® 2 Sam.  viii.  3. 


no 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID 


Lect  XXJjI 


and  reduced  the  remainder  to  slavery.  The  treasures 
of  Heshhon  and  Ar  were  carried  off  for  the  future 
temple  which  David  was  preparing.^  As  Joab  had  won 
his  high  place  by  the  capture  of  Jerusalem,  it  is  prob- 
able that  so  his  successor  Benaiah  won  his  place  at 
the  head  of  the  royal  guards,  by  his  three  exploits  in 
this  campaign. 

But  David’s  great  war  was  that  which,  beginning  and 
Ammonite  ending  with  Ammon,  involved  in  its  sweep  the 
^nd  Syrian  country  east  of  the  Jordan  as  far  as  the 

Euphrates.  The  old  king  of  Ammon,  who  had  roused 
’ the  hostilities  of  Saul,  seems  to  have  been  proportion- 
ately friendly  to  the  rival  David,  — possibly  from  some 
family  relationship  obscurely  indicated  through  the 
parentage  of  David’s  sister  Abigail.  A Jewish  tradition 
relates  that  on  the  slaughter  of  David’s  family  by  the 
neighboring  king  of  Moab,  the  one  of  his  brothers  who 
escaped  found  shelter  with  Nahash.  However  this  may 
be,  on  the  death  of  Nahash,  David  sent  messengers  of 
condolence  to  his  successor,  who  requited  the  embassy 
with  an  insult,  which  provoked  the  most  determined 
vengeance  recorded  in  the  whole  of  David’s  reign.  The 
war,  thus  begun,  was  divided  into  five  distinct  campaigns. 
The  forces  of  Syria  were  subsidized  by  Ammon  and 
combined  in  an  attack  on  Medeba,  a town  of  Reuben. 
To  relieve  this  was  the  object  of  the  first  campaign^ 
conducted  by  Joab,  who  undertook  the  attack  on  the 
Syrians,  and  Abishai,  who  undertook  the  attack  on 
Ammon.  The  second  campaign  carried  the  war  into  a 
wider  field.  Syria  became  now  the  chief  object.  David 
himself  appeared  at  the  head  of  his  army.  The  whole 
body  of  Aramaic  tribes,  even  those  from  beyond^  the 

1 Soe  Lecture  XXIT.  3 2 Sam.  x.  16  ; 1 Chron.  xix.  16. 

2 1 Chrou.  xix.  7-15;  2 Sam.  x 

5>14 


Laci.  XXIII. 


HIS  WARS. 


Ill 


Jordan,  rallied  in  a death-struggle  for  their  independence. 
At  the  decisive  battle  of  Helam  they  were  routed,  with 
the  loss  of  their  commander,  Shobach,  and  a second 
victory  reduced  the  capital,  Damascus.^  The  importance 
of  the  campaign  was  marked  in  many  ways.  It  is  the 
only  war  of  this  time  that  has  left  traces  on  heathen 
records.^  The  Empire  was  at  once  extended  to  the 
Euphrates,  and  Israelite  officers  were  placed  over  the 
intermediate  towns.  The  King  of  Hamath,  on  the 
distant  Orontes,  became  an  ally  of  the  victorious  David. 
The  trophies  of  the  war  long  remained  amongst  the 
most  conspicuous  historic  monuments  of  Jerusalem. 
The  horses  for  which  Syria  was  famous  were  destroyed, 
for  their  introduction  into  Israel  was  not  yet  come.  But 
one  hundred  chariots  came  in  stately  procession  to 
Jerusalem,  and  in  the  sacred  ornaments  of  the  Temple 
that  was  to  be,  the  golden  shields  “ and  the  brazen  basin 
and  columns  long  reminded  the  Israelites  of  the  great 
fight  beside  the  Euphrates.  ^^Some  put  their  trust  in 
“chariots  and  some  in  horses,  but  we  will  remember 
“the  name  of  Jehovah  our  God.  They  are  brought 
“ down  and  fallen,  but  we  are  risen  and  stand  upright.” 
So  probably  sang  the  Psalmists,^  who  welcomed  David 
home  from  this  first  stage  of  the  war,  with  all  that 
fervor  of  religious  gratitude^  which  saw  in  the  Con- 
queror’s brilliant  deeds  the  reflection  of  the  Divine 
favor. 

1 2 Sam.  viii.  3;  1 Chr.  viii.  11.  ^ This  seems  the  best  explanation 

tSee  Ewald,  iii.  198.)  of  Ps.  lx.  6-12,  cviii.  7-13,  which  evi- 

2 Nicolaus  of  Damascus  (Joseph,  dently  contains  the  ancient  Davidic 

Ant.  vii.  5,  § 2)  and  Eupolemus  (Eu-  Psalm  of  this  period,  afterwards  ac- 
lebius,  Prcep.  Ev.  ix.  30).  commodated  in  Ps.  lx.  1-5,  to  a 

3 2 Sam.  viii.  7 ; Cant.  iv.  4.  See  mournful,  in  Ps.  cviii.  1-4  to  a joyful. 

Lecture  XXVII.  event 

♦ Ps.  XX.  7 (Syr.  version  of  title}. 


112 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIII. 


The  third  campaign  was  against  Edom.  It  would 
Edomite  sccm  as  if  in  preparation  for  this,  David  had 
arrayed  the  whole  forces  of  Palestine.  For  this 
great  attempt  his  Divine  Protector  had  portioned  out 
the  ancient  settlements  of  Jacob  both  on  the  west  and 
east  of  Jordan.  Shechem  and  Succoth,  Gilead  and 
Manasseh  were  both  to  be  there.  Ephraim  was  to  be 
the  covering  helmet  of  the  Mighty  Leader,  who  had 
the  rocky  mass  of  Judah  for  his  invincible  head. 
Philistia  had  quailed  before  his  mighty  advance.  He 
had  washed  his  feet  in  Moab  as  in  a basin  of  dregs,  and 
now  the  sandal  which  had  been  drawn  off  for  this  act  of 
scorn  was  to  be  held  by  Edom  as  by  a submissive  slave.^ 
That  ancient  enemy,  the  race  of  the  red-haired  Esau, 
we  have  not  seen  since  the  Passage  through  the  Wilder- 
ness— hardly  since  the  day  when  the  two  brothers 
parted  by  the  sepulchre  of  Isaac.^  Along  all  the  red 
mountains  of  Edom,  down  to  the  impregnable  city  of 
“the  Eock,”  the  wild  tribes  came  forth  to  assist  their 
Ammonite  neighbors  against  the  new  aggressor.  The 
earlier  stage  of  the  war  was  conducted  by  Abishai,  the 
later  by  Joab.  Abishai  won  the  victory  by  a decisive 
battle  in  a ravine,  apparently  commanding  the  approach 
to  Petra,  and  then  by  the  storming  of  the  rocky  hold 
itself  ^AYho  will  lead  us  into  the  strong  city,  who 

will  bring  us  into  Edom  ? ” ^ The  conquest  was  com- 
pleted by  Joab.  He  took  up  his  quarters  in  the  cap- 
tured city.  For  six  months  he  employed  himself  in 
the  savage  work  of  exterminating  the  rock  population. 
With  a grim  performance  of  duty,  he  buried  the  corpses 
of  the  dead  as  fast  as  they  fell  in  the  tombs  of  Petra. 
The  terror  of  his  name  ^ was  so  great,  that  long  after- 

1 Ps.  cviii.  7-9.  3 Ps.  lx.  9,  eviii.  10. 

2 See  Lectures  III.  and  VII.  * 1 Kings  xi.  21  (Ileb.). 


Lect.  XXIII. 


HIS  WARS. 


113 


wards  nothing  but  the  news  of  his  death  could  encour- 
age the  exiled  chief  who  had  escaped  from  this  eastern 
Glencoe  to  return  to  the  haunts  of  his  fathers.  David 
himself  came  at  the  close  of  the  campaign  to  arrange 
the  conquered  territory.  All  that  remained  of  the 
nation  became  his  slaves ; garrisons  were  established 
along  the  mountain  passes,  and-  David  erected  a pillar  ^ 
or  other  triumphal  monument,  to  commemorate  the 
greatness  of  the  success. 

The  fourth  and  fifth  campaigns  were  reserved  for  the 
nation  which  had  led  to  this  wide-spreading  war. 

The  spring  came,  " the  time  when  kings  go 

forth  to  battle,”  ^ and  the  devoted  Ammonites,  now 
stripped  of  their  allies  on  north  and  south,  were  made 
over  to  the  relentless  Joab.  Amongst  the  hills  on  the 
edge  of  the  pastoral  country  was  ^Hhe  great  city,” 
“Kabbah  of  the  children  of  Ammon.”  It  consisted  of 
a lower  town  and  a citadel.  The  lower  town  was, 
probably  from  the  residence  of  the  kings,  called  the 
“ royal  city,”  and,  from  the  unusual  sight  of  a perennial  ^ 
stream  of  water  rising  within  the  town  and  running 
through  it,  the  “ city  of  waters.”  The  citadel,  properly 
called  “ Kabbah,”  was  on  a steep  cliff  on  the  north  side 
of  the  town.  It  contained  the  temple  of  Moloch,  the  god 
or  “ king  ” of  Ammon,  to  whom  were  made  the  sacrifices 
of  children.  The  statue  of  the  god  was  surmounted 
by  a huge  gold  crown,^  containing,  according  to  later 
tradition,^  a precious  stone  of  magnetic  power.  The 
country  which  he  overlooked  was  regarded  as  his  pos- 

1 2 Sam.  viii.  13,  14  (LXX.,  Je-  2 2 Sam.  xi.  1. 

rome,  Gesenius,  Ewald).  For  “ Syr-  3 See  Sinai  and  Palestine,  Chap 

ians  ” (Aram)  should  be  read  “ Edom.”  VIII. 

See  Valley  of  Salt  in  Diet,  of  *2  Sam.  xli.  30. 

Bible.  ® See  Molech  in  Diet,  of  Bible, 


TOL.  II 


8 


114 


THE  REIGN  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIII 


session.  His  priests  ranked  above  the  nobles.  The 
nobles  took  their  rank  as  his  servants.^ 

Against  this  city  the  whole  force  of  Israel  was 
gathered  under  Joab.  The  king’s  own  guards  “ were 
there,  and  (to  mark  the  magnitude  of  the  crisis)  the 
Ark,^  for  the  first  time  since  its  return  from  the  Philis- 
tine captivity,  is  recorded  to  have  accompanied  the 
expedition.  The  army  was  encamped  in  booths  ^ round 
the  city.  For  a whole  year  — probably  from  its  peren- 
nial stream  — it  held  out  against  the  besiegers.  From 
a particular  part  of  the  wall,  constant  sallies  were  made. 
On  one  occasion,  for  reasons  at  the  time  unknown  to 
the  army,  Joab  ordered  a detachment  headed  by  one  of 
the  bravest  and  best  of  the  king’s  officers  to  come  within 
the  fatal  range.  The  siege  continued  notwithstanding, 
and  the  lower  town  was  at  last  taken.  Then,  with  the 
true  loyalty  of  his  character,  Joab  sent  a triumphant 
message  to  his  uncle  at  J erusalem,  inviting  him  to  come 
and  finish  the  v/ar  for  himself  I have  fought  against 
‘^Rabbah,  and  have  taken  the  city  of  waters.”  David 
was  to  do  the  rest,  lest  J oab  take  the  city,  and  it  be 

called  after  his  name.”  The  king  was  roused  from  his 
ease  at  Jerusalem.  The  Ammonites  with  all  their  prop- 
erty had  crowded  into  the  upper  fortress ; the  one  well 
within  at  last  failed,  and  David  entered  the  place  in 
triumph.  When  they  approached  the  statue  of  Moloch, 
there  was,  according  to  Jewish  tradition,  a panic  in  the 
ranks  of  the  conquerors,  till  Ittai  of  Gath^  — doing 
what  no  Israelite  could  have  done  for  fear  of  the  pollu- 
tion— tore  the  vast  golden  covering  from  the  idol’s 

f Jcr.  xlix.  1,  2,  3;  Amos  i.  15,  3 Ibid.  xi.  11. 

Where  “their  king"  refers  to  Moloch.  4 ibid,  (Ileb.). 

2 2 Sam.  xi.  11,  17,  “the  servants  5 .Jerome,  Qu.  Heh.  on  2 Sam,  xii 

David."  30,  and  1 Chron.  xx.  2. 


Lkct.  XXIII. 


HIS  WARS. 


115 


head,  and  brought  it  to  David.  It  was  purified,  and 
from  that  time  is  described  as  the  royal  crown. — *^Thou 
hast  set  a crown  of  pure  gold  upon  his  head.”  ^ 

So  in  all  probability  sang  the  Psalmist  who  celebrated 
this  proud  victory.  He  celebrated  also  its  darker  side. 
Thine  hand  shall  find  out  all  thine  enemies : thy  right 
hand  shall  find  out  those  that  hate  thee.  Thou  shalt 
make  them  as  a fiery  oven  in  the  time  of  thy  wrath.” 
The  expressions  agree  well  with  the  cruel  extermination 
of  the  conquered  inhabitants  by  fire^  and  by  strange 
and  savage  tortures,  — a vengeance  to  be  accounted 
for,  not  excused,  by  the  formidable  resistance  of  the 
besieged. 

Thus  ended  the  wars  of  David.  It  may  be  that  the 
1 8 th  Psalm  was  once  again  sung  on  this  last  deliverance 
^Hrom  all  his  enemies.”  It  may  be  that  the  68th  Psalm 
received  some  new  accommodation  to  the  triumphal 
return  of  the  Ark^  to  Jerusalem.  The  21st  Psalm,  at 
any  rate,  wound  up  the  joyous  festival,  with  the  glad 
thought  that  ^^the  king  shall  joy  in  Thy  strength,  0 
Lord ; and  in  Thy  salvation  how  greatly  shall  he 
rejoice.  Thou  hast  given  him  his  heart’s  desire,  and 
^Hiast  not  denied  him  the  request  of  his  lips.”  So  it 
was  to  all  outward  appearance,  and  the  new  son  who 
was  born  to  him  at  this  time  received  the  auspicious 
name  of  Solomon,  as  if  to  inaugurate  the  universal 
peace  and  prosperity  which  seemed  to  have  set  in.  It 
remains  for  us  to  trace  the  deep  canker  that  lay  con- 
cealed under  this  outward  show. 

1 Ps.  xxi.  3;  Joseph.  Ant.  vii.  7,  danic  wars  (Jer.  xlviii.  4.*),  xlix.  2; 

§ 5.  Amos  ii.  1).  A similar  custom  ex 

2 The  burning  alive  of  the  captives,  isted  among  the  Philistines  (Judg 
which  seems  indicated  in  Psalm  xxi.  xv.  6). 

9,  and  2 Sam.  xii.  31,  appears  to  have  3 Hengstenberg  on  Ps.  Ixviii. 
a custom  usual  in  trans-Jor- 


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LECTURE  XXIV. 

THE  FALL  OP  . DAVID. 


The  Psalms  which,  by  their  titles  or  contents,  belong  to  this 
ire : — 

For  the  affair  of  Uriah,  Psalms  xxxii.,  li. 

For  the  revolt  of  Absalom,  Psalms  iii.,  iv.,  Ixix.  (?),  cix.  (?),  cxliiL 


LECTURE  XXIV. 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 

Three  great  external  calamities  are  recorded  in  Dar 
vid's  reign,  which  may  be  regarded  as  marking  its  begin- 
ning, middle,  and  close.  A three  years’  famine  a three 
months’  exile  • a three  days’  pestilence.  Of  these  the 
first  ^ has  been  already  noticed  in  connection  with  the 
last  traces  of  the  house  of  Saul.  The  third  belongs  to 
the  last  decline  of  his  prosperity.  But  the  second  forms 
the  culminating  part  of  the  group  of  incidents  which 
contains  the  main  tragedy  of  David’s  life. 

Amongst  the  thirty  commanders  of  the  thirty  bands 
into  which  the  Israelite  army  of  David  was  Uriah  and 
divided,  was  the  gallant  Uriah,^  like  others  of 
his  officers,^  a foreigner  — a Hittite.  His  name,^  how- 
ever, and  perhaps  his  manner  of  speech,®  indicate  that 
he  had  adopted  the  Jewish  religion.  He  had  mar- 
ried Bathsheba,  a woman  of  extraordinary  beauty,  the 
daughter  of  Eliam,  — one  of  his  brother  officers,’  and 
possibly  the  son  of  Ahithophel.  He  was  passionately 

1 2 Sara.  xxiv.  13  (LXX.) ; 1 Chron.  4 Ittai  of  Gath,  Ish-bosheth  the 

xxi.  12.  See  Ewald,  iii.  207.  Canaanite,  2 Sara,  xxiii.  8 (LXX.); 

2 That  it  took  place  early  in  David’s  Ztdek  the  Araraonite,  xxiii.  37,  Is- 
reign  appears  (1)  from  the  freshness  maiah  the  Gibeonite,  1 Chron.  xii.  4. 
of  the  allusion  to  Saul’s  act,  2 Sara.  ^ Uriah,  Ur-Jah  ==  “ Fire  of  Jo- 
xxi.  1,  2;  (2)  from  the  apparent  allu-  hovah.” 

eion  to  the  massacre  of  Saul’s  sons  in  ® 2 Sam.  xi.  11. 

2 Sam.  xvi.  8 ; (3)  from  the  apparent  ^ Ibid.  xi.  3,  xxiii.  34.  Hence, 
connection  with  2 Sam.  ix.  (See  perhaps,  as  Professor  Blunt  conject- 
Lecture  XXI.  Ewald,  iii.  173,  174.)  ures  (^Coincidences^  II.  x.),  Uriah’s 

* 2 Sam.  xxiii.  39;  1 Chron.  xi.  41.  first  acquaintance  with  Bathsheba. 


120 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV 


devoted  to  his  wife,  and  their  union  was  celebrated  in 
Jerusalem  as  one  of  peculiar  tenderness.^  He  had  a 
house  in  the  city  underneath  the  palace,  where,  during 
his  absence  at  the  siege  of  Rabbah  with  Joab’s  army, 
his  wife  remained  behind.  From  the  roof  of  his  palace, 
the  King  looked  down  on  the  cisterns  which  were  con- 
structed on  the  top  of  the  lower  houses  of  Jerusalem, 
and  then  conceived  for  Bathsheba  the  uncontrollable 
passion  to  which  she  offered  no  resistance.  In  the  hope 
that  the  husband’s  return  might  cover  his  own  shame, 
and  save  the  reputation  of  the  injured  woman,  he  sent 
back  for  Uriah  from  the  camp,  on  the  pretext  of  asking 
news  of  the  war.  The  King  met  with  an  unexpected 
obstacle  in  the  austere  soldierlike  spirit  which  guided 
the  conduct  of  the  sturdy  Canaanite.  He  steadily  re- 
fused to  go  home,  or  partake  of  any  of  the  indulgences 
of  domestic  life,  whilst  the  ark  and  the  host  were  in 
booths  and  his  comrades  lying  in  the  open  air.^  He 
partook  of  the  royal  hospitality,  but  slept  always  in  the 
guards’  quarter®  at  the  gate  of  the  palace.  On  the  last 
night  of  his  stay,  the  King  at  a feast  vainly  endeavored 
to  entrap  him  by  intoxication.  The  soldier  was  over- 
come by  the  debauch,  but  retained  his  sense  of  duty 
sufficiently  to  insist  on  sleeping  at  the  palace.  On  the 
morning  of  the  third  day,  David  sent  him  back  to  the 
camp  with  a letter  containing  the  command  to  Joab  to 
contrive  his  destruction  in  the  battle.^  Probably  to  an 
unscrupulous  soldier  like  Joab  the  absolute  will  of  the 
King  was  sufficient. 

1 2 Sam.  xii.  3.  Josephus  (^Ant.  vii.  7,  § 1)  adds, 

2 Ibid.  xi.  11.  The  words  are  that  he  gave  as  a reason  an  imagi- 
admirably  applied  by  Oliver  Crom-  nary  oflence  of  Uriah.  None  such 
well  in  a rebuke  to  his  son  Richard  appears  in  the  letter  as  preserved  in 
(Carlyle’s  Cromwell^  Letter  clxxviii.).  2 Sam.  xi. 

3 Ibid.  9.  Comp.  Neh.  iii.  16. 


Lsct.  XXIV. 


THE  MURDER  OF  URIAH. 


121 


The  device  of  Joab  was,  to  observe  the  part  of  the 
wall  of  Eabbath- Ammon  where  the  strongest  Theraur- 
force  of  the  besieged  was  congregated,  and  unah. 
thither,  as  a kind  of  forlorn  hope,  to  send  Uriah.  A 
sally  took  place.  Uriah  with  his  soldiers  advanced  as 
far  as  the  gate  of  the  city,  and  was  there  shot  down  by 
the  Ammonite  archers.  It  seems  as  if  it  had  been  an 
established  maxim  of  Israelitish  warfare  not  to  approach 
the  wall  of  a besieged  city;  and  one  instance  of  the 
fatal  result  was  quoted,  as  if  proverbially,^  against  it,  — 
the  sudden  and  ignominious  death  of  Abimelech  at 
Thebez,  which  cut  short  the  hopes  of  the  then  rising 
monarchy.  Just  as  Joab  had  forewarned  the  messenger, 
the  King  broke  into  a furious  passion  on  hearing  of  the 
loss,  and  cited,  almost  in  the  very  words  which  Joab 
had  predicted,  the  case  of  Abimelech.  The  messenger, 
as  instructed  by  Joab,  calmly  continued,  and  ended  the 
story  with  the  words  : Thy  servant  also,  Uriah  the 

Hittite,  is  dead.”  In  a moment  David’s  anger  is  ap- 
peased. He  sends  an  encouraging  message  to  Joab  on 
the  unavoidable  chances  of  war,  and  urges  him  to  con- 
tinue the  siege.  Uriah  had  fallen  unconscious  of  his 
wife’s  dishonor.  She  hears  of  her  husband’s  death. 
The  narrative  gives  no  hint  as  to  her  shame  or  remorsa 
She  ^^mourned”  with  the  usual  signs  of  grief  as  a widow; 
and  then  became  the  wife  of  David.^ 

Thus  far  the  story  belongs  to  the  usual  crimes  of  an 
Oriental  despot.  Detestable  as  was  the  double  guilt  of 
this  dark  story,  we  must  still  remember  that  David  was 
not  an  Alfred  or  a Saint  Louis.  He  was  an  Eastern 

1 This  appears  from  the  fact  that  LXX.  to  verse  22,  with  the  remarks 
Joab  exactly  anticipates  what  the  of  Thenius  thereon.  See  Lecture 
king  will  say  when  he  hears  of  the  XV.  p.  391. 
disaster.  See  the  additions  of  the  2 2 Sam.  xi.  27. 


122 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Leot  XXIV 


king,  exposed  to  all  the  temptations  of  a king  of  Am- 
mon or  Damascus  then,  of  a Sultan  of  Bagdad  or  Con- 
stantinople in  modern  times.  What  follows,  however, 
could  have  been  found  nowhere  in  the  ancient  world 
but  in  the  Jewish  monarchy. 

A year  had  passed;  the  dead  Uriah  was  forgotten, 
the  child  of  guilt  was  born  in  the  royal  house,  and  loved 
with  all  the  passionate  tenderness  of  David’s  paternal 
heart.  Suddenly  the  Prophet  Nathan  appears  before 
him.  He  comes  as  if  to  claim  redress  for  a wrong  in 
humble  life.  It  was  the  true  mission  of  the  Prophets, 
as  champions  of  the  oppressed,  in  the  courts  of  kings. 
Apologue  of  Prophetic  spirit  that  spoke 

Nathan.  througli  Nathan’s  mouth.  The  apologue  of 
the  rich  man  and  the  ewe  lamb  has,  besides  its  own 
intrinsic  tenderness,  a supernatural  elevation  which  is 
the  best  sign  of  true  Revelation.  It  ventures  to  dis- 
regard all  particulars,  and  is  content  to  aim  at  awaken- 
ing the  general  sense  of  outraged  justice.  It  fastens  on 
the  essential  guilt  of  David’s  sin,  - — not  its  sensuality,  or 
its  impurity,  so  much  as  its  meanness  and  selfishness.  It 
rouses  the  King’s  conscience  by  that  teaching  described^ 
as  specially  characteristic  of  prophecy,  making  manifest 
his  own  sin  in  the  indignation  which  he  has  expressed 
at  the  sin  of  another.  Thou  art  the  man  is,  or  ought  to 
be,  the  conclusion,  expressed  or  unexpressed,  of  every 
practical  sermon.  A true  description  of  a real  incident, 
if  like  in  its  general  character,  — however  unlike  to  our 
own  case  in  all  the  surrounding  particulars,  — strikes 
home  with  greater  force  than  the  sternest  personal 
invective.  This  is  the  miglity  function  of  all  great 
works  of  fiction.  They  have  in  their  power  that  indi- 
rect appeal  to  the  conscience  of  which  the  address  of 

1 1 Cor.  xiv.  24,  25. 


Lect.  XXIV. 


HIS  REPENTANCE. 


123 


Nathan  is  the  first  and  most  exquisite  example.  His 
parable  is  repeated,  in  actual  words,  in  a famous  romance 
which  stirred  the  imagination  of  our  fathers,  and  is  the 
key-note  of  other  tales  of  like  genius  which  have  no  less 
stirred  our  own. 

As  the  apologue  of  Nathan  reveals  the  true  Prophet, 
BO  the  Psalms  of  David  reveal  the  true  Peni-  Repentance 
tent.  Two^  at  least  — the  51st  and  32d — of  David, 
can  hardly  belong  to  any  other  period.  He  has  fallen. 
That  abyss  which  yawns  by  the  side  of  lofty  genius  and 
strong  passion  had  opened  and  closed  over  him.  The 
charm  of  his  great  name  is  broken.  But  the  sudden 
revulsion  of  feeling  shows  that  his  conscience  was  not 
dead.  Our  reverence  for  David  is  shaken,  not  destroyed. 
The  power  of  his  former  character  was  still  there.  It 
was  overpowered  for  the  time,  but  it  was  capable  of 
being  roused  again.  The  great  waterfloods  ” had  burst 
over  him,  but  they  had  not  come  nigh  ” to  his  inmost 
Boul.^  The  Prophet  had  by  his  opening  words,  Give 
^^me  a judgment,”^  thrown  him  back  upon  his  better 
nature.  There  was  still  an  eye  to  see,  there  was  still  an 
ear  to  hear.  His  indignation  against  the  rich  man 
of  the  parable  showed  that  the  moral  sense  was  not 
wholly  extinguished.  The  instant  recognition  of  his 
guilt  breaks  up  the  illusion  of  months.  I have  sinned 

against  the  Lord.”  The  sense  of  his  injustice  to  man 
waxes  faint  before  his  sense  of  sin  as-ainst  God.  ^^Against 

Thee,  Thee  only,  have  I sinned,  and  done  this  evil  in 
‘^Thy  sight.”  ^ This  is  the  peculiar  turn  given  to  his 

1 Ewald,  while  acknowledging  the  ^ 2 Sam.  xii.  1 (Vulgate,  and  The- 
Davidic  origin  of  the  32d,  doubts  nius). 

the  51st.  But  if  verses  18  and  19  Ps.  li.  4.  For  the  legends  of  this 

can  be  regarded  as  a later  aceommo-  incident  see  Fabricius,  Cod.  Pseude^ 
dation,  the  rest  of  the  Psalm  suits  no  pig.  V.  T.  p.  1000;  Koran.,  xxxviii. 
ather  time  or  person  c(iually.  20-24  ; Weil’s  p.  158-161, 

• Ps.  xxxii.  6.  167-170. 


124 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lkct,  XXIV 


confession  by  the  elevation  and  force  of  his  religious 
convictions.  He  is  worn  away  by  grief;  day  and  night 
he  feels  a mighty  Hand  heavy  upon  him ; his  soul  is 
parched  up  as  with  the  drought  of  an  Eastern  summer.^ 
But  he  rises  above  the  present  by  his  passionate  hopes 
for  the  future.  His  prayers  are  the  simple  expressions 
of  one  who  loathes  sin  because  he  has  been  acquainted 
with  it,  who  longs  to  have  truth  in  his  innermost  self,  to 
have  hands  thoroughly  clean,  to  make  a fresh  start  in 
life  with  a spirit^  free,  and  just,  and  new.  This  is  the 
true  Hebrew,  Christian,  idea  of  Kepentance  ” : — not 
penance,  not  remorse,  not  mere  general  confessions  of 
human  depravity,  not  minute  confessions  of  minute  sins 
dragged  out  by  a too  scrupulous  casuistry,  but  change 
of  life  and  mind.  And  in  this,  the  crisis  of  his  fate,  and 
from  the  agonies  of  his  grief,  a doctrine  emerges,  as 
universal  and  as  definite  as  was  wrung  out  of  the  like 
struggles  of  the  Apostle  Paul.  Now,  if  ever,^  would 
have  been  the  time,  had  his  religion  led  him  in  that 
direction,  to  have  expiated  his  crime  by  the  sacrifices  of 
the  Levitical  ritual.  It  would  seem  as  if  for  a moment 
such  a solution  had  occurred  to  him.  But  he  at  once 
rejects  it.  He  remains  true  to  the  Prophetic  teaching. 
He  knows  that  no  substitution  of  dead  victims,  however 
costly,  can  fill  up  the  gulf  between  himself  and  God. 
He  knows  that  it  is  another  and  higher  sacrifice  which 
God  approves.  Thou  desirest  no  sacrifice — else  would 
‘a  give  it  thee;  but  thou  delightest  not  in  burnt  offer- 
“ings.  The  sacrifices  of  God  are  a broken  spirit  a 
broken  and  contrite  heart,  0 God,  thou  wilt  not  de- 
spise.” ^ And  even  out  of  that  broken  and  troubled 
heart,  the  dawn  of  a better  life  springs  up.  Be  glad 
‘^in  the  Lord,  and  rejoice  0 ye  righteous;  and  shout  for 

2 Ps.  li.  12.  ^ Ps-  li- 


1 I's.  xxxii.  4. 


Lect.  XXIV. 


HIS  REPENTANCE. 


125 


‘^joy,  all  ye  that  are  true  of  heart.”  ^ He  is  not  what 
he  was  before ; but  he  is  far  nobler  and  greater  than 
many  a just  man  who  never  fell  and  never  repented. 
He  is  far  more  closely  bound  up  with  the  sympathies  of 
mankind  than  if  he  had  never  fallen.  We  cannot  won- 
der that  a scruple  should  have  arisen  in  recording  so 
terrible  a crime ; and  accordingly  the  Chronicler  throws 
a veil  over  the  w^hole  transaction.  But  the  bolder  spirit 
of  the  more  Prophetic  Books  of  Samuel  has  been  jus- 
tified by  the  enduring  results.  “Who  is  called  the  man 
“after  God’s  own  heart?”  so  the  whole  matter  is  summed 
up  by  a critic  not  too  indulgent  to  sacred  characters : — 
“David,  the  Hebrew  king,  had  fallen  into  sins  enough — 
“ blackest  crimes  — there  was  no  want  of  sin.  And 
“ therefore  the  unbelievers  sneer,  and  ask  ^ Is  this  your 
“ ^ man  according  to  God’s  heart  ? ’ The  sneer,  I must 
“ say,  seems  to  me  but  a shallow  one.  What  are  faults, 
“what  are  the  outward  details  of  a life,  if  the  inner 
“ secret  of  it,  the  remorse,  temptations,  the  often  baffled, 
“ never  ended  struggle  of  it  be  forgotten  ? . . . David’s 
“life  and  history  as  written  for  us  in  those  Psalms  of 
“ his,  I consider  to  be  the  truest  emblem  ever  given  us 
“ of  a man’s  moral  progress  and  warfare  here  below.  All 
“ earnest  souls  will  ever  discern  in  it  the  faithful  strug- 
“ gle  of  an  earnest  human  soul  towards  what  is  good  and 
“ best.  Struggle  often  baffled  — sore  baffled  — driven 
“ as  into  entire  wreck : yet  a struggle  never  ended,  ever 
“with  tears,  repentance,  true  unconquerable  purpose, 
“ begun  anew.”  ^ 

As  in  the  Psalms,  so  in  the  history,  the  force  of  the 
original  character  is ’seen  to  regain  its  lost  ascendancy 
The  passionate  grief  of  the  King  o ver  the  little 
infant  born  to  Bathsheba  is  the  first  direct  indi- 

1 Ps.  xxxii.  11.  ^ Carlyle’s  Heroes  and  Hero-Worships  p.  7?. 


126 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXI V 


cation  of  that  depth  of  parental  affection  which  fills  so 
large  a part  of  David’s  subsequent  story.  His  impene- 
trable seclusion  during  the  illness  of  the  child,  the  elder 
brothers  gathering  round  to  comfort  him,  the  sudden 
revulsion  of  thought  after  the  child’s  death,  with  one 
of  those  very  few  indications  of  belief  in  another  life 
that  break  through  the  silence  of  the  Hebrew  Scrip- 
tures, I shall  go  to  him,  but  he  shall  not  return  to  me,” 
— are  proofs  that,  through  all  his  lapses  into  savage 
cruelty  and  reckless  self-indulgence,  there  still  remained 
a fountain  of  feeling  within,  as  fresh  and  pure  as  when 
he  fed  his  father’s  flocks  and  won  the  love  of  Jonathan. 

But,  though  the  ^^free  spirit”  and  clean  heart”  of 
The  effects  David  camo  back,  and  though  he  rallied  from 
oHiispoiyg  infant  child;  though  the  birth 

of  Solomon  was  as  auspicious  as  if  nothing  had  oc- 
curred to  trouble  the  victorious  return  from  the  con- 
quest of  Ammon ; the  clouds  from  this  time  gathered 
over  David’s  fortunes,  and  henceforward  ^Hhe  sword 
never  departed  from  his  house.”  ^ The  crime  itself 
had  sprung  from  the  lawless  and  licentious  life,  fostered 
by  the  polygamy  which  David  had  been  the  first  to 
introduce ; and  out  of  this  same  polygamy  sprang  the 
terrible  retribution.^ 

In  order  fully  to  understand  what  follows,  we  must 
return  to  the  internal  relations  of  the  royal  family.  In 
his  early  youth  he  had,  like  his  countrymen  generally, 
but  one  wife,  the  Princess  Michal.  Her  ardent 
love  for  him,  his  adventurous  mode  of  winning 

1 2 Sam.  xii.  10.  forty  years  of  2 Sam.  xv.  7 (Jerome, 

2 The  Jewish  tradition  made  the  Qu.  Heh.  ad  loc.),  to  be  the  interval 
offence  of  David,  which  called  down  between  the  crime  and  the  punish- 
these  calamities,  to  be  the  fraud  ment.  Contrast  the  far  superior  mor* 
tvhich  caused  the  massacre  of  the  ality  of  the  Biblical  narrative, 
priests  at  Nob,  and  interpreted  the 


Lect.  XXIV. 


HIS  FAMILY. 


127 


her  hand,  the  skill  and  courage  with  w'hich  she  assisted 
his  escape,  — we  have  already  seen.  Then  came  her 
second  marriage  with  her  neighbor  Phaltiel,  her  exile 
with  liim  across  the  Jordan,  his  bitter  lamentation  when 
on  the  border  of  their  common  tribe  he  was  parted 
from  her  at  Bahurim,  the  probable  estrangement  be- 
tween her  and  David,  and  the  final  breach  when  her 
regal  pride  and  his  eager  devotion  were  brought  into 
collision  on  the  day  of  his  entrance  into  Jerusalem. 
Whether,  according  to  Jewish  tradition,  she  returned  to 
Phaltiel,  or  whether,  as  the  sacred  narrative  seems  to 
imply,  she  remained  secluded  within  the  palace,  her 
influence  henceforth  ceased. 

The  King’s  numerous  concubines^  were  placed  to- 
gether in  his  own  house.  But  the  six  wives  wives  and 
whom  he  had  brought  from  his  wanderings  and 
from  Hebron  — to  whom  he  had  now  added  a seventh, 
Bathsheba  (if  not  more  ^),  lived,  as  it  would  seem,  with 
their  children,  each  in  separate  establishments  of  their 
own.^  With  them,  as  we  have  seen,  there  lived  on 
terms  of  intimacy  their  cousins,  who  stood  to  them, 
however,  from  their  superior  age,  rather  in  the  relation 
of  uncles.  Each  of  the  princes  had  his  royal  mule.'^ 
The  princesses  were  distinguished  by  the  long  sleeves 
of  their  robes. 

The  eldest  of  the  Princes  was  Amnon,  the  son  ol 
Ahinoam,  whom  the  King  cherished  as  the  heir 
to  the  throne,  with  an  affection  amounting  al- 
most to  awe.®  His  intimate  friend  in  the  family  was  his 

1 2 Sam.  XV.  16.  That  the  ten  left  3 2 Sam.  xlii.  7,  20. 
behind  in  Jerusalem  were  but  a part  4 Jbid,  29. 

of  the  whole  establishment,  appears  5 Jbld.  is  (Ilebr.);  comp.  Cant,  v 
from  xix.  6.  3,  and  see  Josephus,  Ant.  vii.  8,  § 1. 

9 2 Sam.  V.  13;  1 Chr.  xiv.  3.  6 Ibid.  5^  21  (LXX.). 


128 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV. 


cousin  Jonadab,  one  of  those  characters^  who  in  great 
houses  pride  themselves  on  being  acquainted  and  on 
dealing  with  all  the  secrets  of  the  family.  This  was 
one  group  in  the  royal  circle.  Another  consisted  of  the 
two  children  of  Maacah,  the  princess  of  Geshur,  — Ab- 
salom and  his  sister  Tamar,  the  only  two  of 
purely  royal  descent.  In  all  of  them  the 
beauty  for  which  the  house  of  Jesse  was  renowned  — 
David’s  brothers,  David  himself,  Adonijah,  Solomon  — 
seemed  to  be  concentrated.  Absalom  especially  was  in 
this  respect  the  very  flower  and  pride  of  the  whole 
nation.  In  all  Israel  there  was  none  to  be  praised  for 
his  beauty,”  like  him.  ^^From  the  crown  of  his  head 
to  the  sole  of  his  foot  there  was  no  blemish  in  him.” 
The  magnificence  of  his  hair  was  something  wmnderful. 
Year  by  year  or  month  by  month  its  weight  was  known 
and  counted.  He  had  a sheep-farm  near  Ephraim  or 
Ephron,  a few  miles  to  the  northeast  of  Jerusalem,  and 
another  property  near  the  Jordan  Valley,  where  he  had 
erected  a monument  to  keep  alive  the  remembrance  of 
his  name,  from  the  melancholy  feeling  that  the  three 
sons  who  should  have  preserved  his  race  had  died  be- 
fore him.^  He  had,  however,  one  daughter,  who  after- 
wards carried  on  the  royal  line  in  her  child,  called, 
after  her  grandmother,  Maacah,  and  destined  to  play 
a conspicuous  part  in  the  history  of  the  divided  king- 
dom.® This  daughter  was  named  Tamar,  after  her 
aunt.  The  elder  Tamar,  like  her  brother  and 
her  niece,  was  remarkable  for  her  extraordinary 
beauty,^  whence  perhaps  she  derived  her  name,  ^^the 
‘^palm-tree,”  the  most  graceful  of  oriental  trees.  For 
this,  and  for  the  homely  art  of  making  a peculiar  kind  ® 


1 2 Sam.  xiil.  4 5,  32,  35. 

2 Ibid  23,  xviii.  18. 

» See  Lecture  XXXVJ. 


4 2 Sam.  xiii. ; 1 xiv.  27. 

5 2 Sam.  xiii.  6.  8,  9. 


Lbct.  XXIV 


MURDER  OF  AMNON. 


129 


ot  nakes,  the  Princess  had  acquired  a renown  wh^ch 
reached  beyond  the  seclusion  of  her  brother’s  house  to 
all  the  circle  of  the  royal  family. 

There  had  been  no  cloud  to  disturb  the  serene  rela- 
tions of  these  different  groups  till  the  fatal  day  when 
Amnon,  who  had  long  wasted  away,  grown  morning 
^^by  morning  paler  and  paler,  leaner  and  leaner,”  from 
a desperate  passion  for  his  half-sister  Tamar,  — at  last 
contrived,  through  the  management  of  Jonadab,  to  ac- 
complish his  evil  design.  It  Avas  a moment  long  remem- 
bered as  the  beginning  of  woes,”  Avhen  on  his  brutal 
hatred  succeeding  to  his  brutal  passion,  she  found  her- 
self driven  out  of  the  house,  and  in  a frenzy  of  grief 
and  indignation  tore  off  the  sleeves  from  her  royal 
robes,  and,  with  her  bare  arms,  clasped  on  her  head 
the  handfuls  of  ashes  Avhich  she  had  snatched  from 
the  ground,  and  rushed  to  and  fro  through  the  streets 
screaming  aloud,  till  she  encountered  her  brother  Ab- 
salom, and  by  him  was  taken  into  his  OAvn  house.  The 
Avas  afraid  or  unwilling  to  punish  the  crime  of  the 
heir  to  the  throne.  But  on  Absalom,  as  her  brother, 
devolved,  according  to  Eastern  ^ notions,  the  dreadful 
duty,  the  frightful  pleasure,  of  avenging  his  sister’s 
wrong.  All  the  Princes  Avere  invited  by  him  to  a pas- 
toral festival  at  his  country-house,  and  there  j^r^rderof 
Amnon  Avas  slain  by  his  brother’s  retainers. 

There  Avas  a general  alarm.  It  would  seem  as  if  there 
was  something  desperate  in  Absalom’s  character  which 
made  those  around  him  feel  that'  there  was  an  im- 
measurable vista  of  vengeance  opened.  The  other 
Princes  rushed  to  their  mules  and  galloped  back  to 
Jerusalem.  The  exaggerated  news  had  already  reached 
their  father  that  all  had  perished.  Jonadab  reassured 

1 As  in  Gen.  xxxiv.  25,  31. 

9 


VOL.  II. 


180 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect  XXIV 


him.  Still,  the  truth  was  dark  enough;  and  in  the 
presence  of  a loss  which  appears  to  have  been  deeply 
felt,  not  only  by  the  King,  but  by  the  whole  family, 
Absalom  was  forced  to  retire  to  exile  beyond  the  limits 
of  Palestine,  to  his  father-in-law’s  court  at  Geshur. 

But  much  as  the  King  had  loved  Amnon,  he  loved 
Absalom  more : Joab,  always  loyal,  always  ready,  saw 
that  he  only  needed  an  excuse  to  recall  the  absent  son, 
and  by  a succession  of  devices,  Absalom  was  brought 
back  first  to  his  country  property,  and  then  to  Jerusalem 
Conspiracy  itseKd  But  meanwhile,  he  himself  had  been 
ofAbsaiom.  from  David  by  his  long  exile.  He 

found  himself  virtually  chief  of  the  King’s  sons.  That 
strength  and  violence  of  will  which  made  him  terrible 
among  his  brethren  was  now  to  vent  itself  against  his 
father.  He  courted  popularity  by  constantly  appearing 
in  the  royal  seat  of  judgment,  in  the  gateway  of  Jeru- 
salem. He  affected  royal  state  by  the  unusual  display 
of  chariots  and  war-horses,  and  runners  to  precede  him.^ 
Under  pretext  of  a pilgrimage  to  Hebron,  possibly  as 
the  Patriarchal  sanctuary,  perhaps  only  as  his  own  birth- 
place, he  there  set  up  his  claims  to  the  throne,  and  be- 
came suddenly  the  head  of  a formidable  revolt.  In 
that  ancient  capital  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,  he  would  find 
adherents  jealous  of  their  own  elected  king’s  absorption 
into  the  nation  at  large.  And  not  fiir  off,  amongst  the 
southern  hills,  in  Giloh,  dwelt  the  renowned  Ahithophel, 
wisest  of  all  the  Israelite  statesmen.  According  to  the 
traditional  interpretation  of  several  of  the  Psalms,®  he 
was  in  the  closest  confidence  with  David,  though,  if  we 
may  trust  the  indications  of  the  history,  he  had,  through 

* See  the  comments  of  Thenius.  years  in  verse  7,  should  probably  be 

^ 2 Sam.  XV.  1.  The  date  of  “ forty  ” “four.”  See  Ewald,  iii.  217,  227 

3 Ps.  xll.,  9;  Iv.  12-14,  21. 


Ucr.  XXIV. 


HIS  FLIGHT. 


131 


the  wrongs  of  his  granddaughter  Bathsheba,  the  deepest 
personal  reasons  for  enmity. 

It  was  apparently  early  on  the  morning  of  the  day 
after  he  had  received  the  news  of  the  rebellion  that  the 
King  left  the  city  of  Jerusalem.  There  is  no  single 
day^  in  the  Jewish  history  of  which  so  elaborate  an  ac- 
count remains  as  of  this  memorable  flight.  There  is 
none,  we  may  add,  that  combines  so  many  of  David’s 
characteristics,  — his  patience,  his  high-spirited  religion, 
his  generosity,  his  calculation  : we  miss  only  his  daring 
courage.  Was  it  crushed,  for  the  moment,  by  the  weight 
of  parental  grief,  or  of  bitter  remorse  ? 

Every  stage  of  the  mournful  procession  was  marked 
by  some  peculiar  incident.  He  left  the  city.  Flight  of 
accompanied  by  his  whole  court.  None  of  his 
household  remained,  except  ten  of  the  women  of  the 
harem,  whom  he  sent  back,  apparently  to  occupy  the 
Palace.  The  usual  array  of  mules  and  asses  was  left 
behind.  They  were  all  on  foot.  The  first  halt  was  at 
a spot  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  known  as  the  Far 
House.”  ^ The  second  was  by  a solitary  olive-tree  ^ that 
stood  by  the  road  to  the  wilderness  of  the  Jordan. 
Here  the  long  procession  formed  itself.  The  body-guard 
of  Philistines  moved  at  the  head  : then  followed  the 
great  mass  of  the  regular  soldiery : next  came  the  high 
officers  of  the  court ; and  last,  immediately  before  the 
King  himself,  the  six  hundred  warriors,  his  ancient^ 
companions,  with  their  wives  and  children. 

A.mongst  these  David  observed  Ittai  of  Gath, 

1 Strange  that  it  should  have  been  2 2 Sam.  xv.  1 7 ; A.  V “a  place 

reserved  for  Ewald  (iii.  228-235)  to  that  was  fir  off.” 

have  first  dwelt  on  this  remarkable  3 2 Sam.  xv.  18  (LXX.). 

fact.  In  what  follows  I am  indebted  4 Ewald,  iii.  177  note.  According 

to  him  at  every  turn.  to  the  probable  reading  of  Gibhorim 

for  Gittim. 


132 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV. 


and  with  the  true  nobleness  of  his  character  entreated 
the  Philistine  chief  not  to  peril  his  own  or  his  country- 
men’s lives  in  the  service  of  a fallen  and  a stranger  sov- 
ereign. But  Ittai  declared  his  resolution  (with  a fervor 
which  almost  inevitably  recalls  a like  profession  made 
almost  on  the  same  spot  to  the  Great  Descendant  of 
David  ’ centuries  afterwards)  to  follow  him  in  life  and  in 
death.  The  King  accepted  his  faithful  service;  and  call- 
ing him  to  his  side,  they  advanced  to  the  head  of  the 
march,  and  passed  over  the  deep  ravine  of  the  Kidron, 
followed  close  by  the  guards  and  their  children.  It  was 
the  signal  that  he  was  determined  on  flight;  and  a wail 
of  grief  rose  from  the  whole  procession,  which  seemed 
to  be  echoed  back  by  mountain  and  valley,  as  if  “ the 
“whole  land  wept  with  a loud  voice.”  At  this  point 
they  were  overtaken  by  another  procession,  consisting 
of  the  Levites  and  the  two  Priests,  Zadok  and  Abiathar, 
bringing  the  ark  from  its  place  on  the  hill  of  Zion  to 
accompany  the  King  in  his  flight.  There  is  a differ- 
ence in  the  conduct  of  the  rival  Priests  which  seems 
to  indicate  their  different  shades  of  loyalty.  Zadok 
remained  by  the  ark ; Abiathar  went  apart 
Abiathar.  mountain  side,®  apparently  waiting  to 

watch  the  stream  of  followers  as  it  flowed  past.  With 
a spirit  worthy  of  the  King  who  was  Prophet  as  well 
as  Priest,  David  refused  this  new  aid.  He  would  not 
use  the  ark  as  a charm ; he  had  too  much  reverence  for 
it  to  risk  it  in  his  personal  peril.  He  reminded  Zadok 
that  he  too  by  his  prophetic  insight  ought  to 
have  known  better.  “ TJmu  a seer  ! ” It  was  a 


Zadok. 


1 Matt.  xxvi.  35. 

» 2 Sam.  XV.  24,  unb  Bai&up  (LXX.). 
3 According  to  the  Jewisli  tradition, 
>3  consult  tlie  Divine  oracle  on  the 


hill-top,  which  was  supposed  to  have 
returned  the  answer  which  guided 
David’s  refusal  to  allow  the  progress 
of  the  ark  (Jerome,  Qu.  Heb.  ad  loc.). 


L»ct.  XXIV. 


HIS  FLIGHT. 


133 


case  where  the  agility  of  their  two  sons  was  likely  to 
be  of  more  avail  than  the  officious  zeal  of  the  chief 
Priests.  To  them  he  left  the  charge  of  bringing  him 
tidings  from  the  capital,  and  passed  onwards  to  the 
Jordan.  Another  burst  of  wild  lament  broke  out  as  the  . 
procession  turned  up  the  mountain  pathway  ; the  King 
leading  the  long  dirge,  which  was  taken  up  all  down  the 
slope  of  Olivet.  The  King  drew  his  cloak  over  his 
head,^  and  the  rest  did  the  same ; he  only  distinguished 
by  his  unsandalled  feet.  At  the  top  of  the  mountain, 
consecrated  by  one  of  the  altars  in  that  age  common  on 
the  hill- tops  of  Palestine,  and  apparently  used  ^ ^ . 
habitually  by  David,  they  were  met  by  Hushai 
the  Archite,  the  friend,”  as  he  was  officially  called,  of 
the  King.  The  priestly  garment,^  which  he  wore  after 
the  fashion,  as  it  would  seem,  of  David’s  chief  officers, 
was  torn,  and  his  head  was  smeared  with  dust,  in  the 
agony  of  his  grief  In  him  David  saw  his  first  gleam 
of  hope.  For  warlike  purposes  he  was  useless;  but  of 
political  stratagem  he  was  a master.  A moment  before, 
the  tidings  had  come  of  the  treason  of  Ahithopliel.  To 
frustrate  his  designs,  Hushai  was  sent  back,  just  in  time 
to  meet  Absalom  arriving  from  Hebron. 

It  was  noon  when  David  passed  over  the  mountain 
top,  and  now,  as  Jerusalem  was  left  behind,  and  the 
new  prospect  opened  before  him,  two  new  characters 
appeared,  both  in  connection  with  the  hostile  tribe  of 
Benjamin,  whose  territory  they  were  entering.  One  of 
them  was  Ziba,  slave  of  Mephibosheth,  taking 
advantage  of  the  civil  war  to  make  his  own 
fortunes,  and  bringing  the  story  that  Mephibosheth  had 
gone  over  to  the  rebels,  in  the  hope  of  a restoration 

* Comp,  2 Sam.  xix.  4,  and  Mark  2 2 Sam.  xv.  32;  Cutaneth;  rhv 
idv.  72,  emBaXciv  IkKcus  ;^^^Td)va;  A.  V.  “coat.” 


134 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV 


of  the  dynasty  of  his  grandfather  Saul.  The  King 
gratefully  accepted  his  offering,  took  the  stores  of  bread, 
dates, ^ grapes,  and  wine  for  his  followers,  and,  in  a mo- 
ment of  indignation,  granted  to  Ziba  the  whole  property 
of  Mephibosheth.  At  Bahurim,  also  on  the  downward 
pass,  he  encountered  another  member  of  the  fallen 
, dynasty,  Shimei,  the  son  of  Gera.^  His  house 
was  just  within  the  borders  of  Benjamin,  on  the 
spot  where  — apparently  for  this  reason  — Michal,  the 
princess  of  that  same  house,  had  left  her  husband,  Phal- 
tiel.  All  the  fury  of  the  rival  dynasties,  with  all  the 
foul  names  which  long  feuds  had  engendered,  burst 
forth  as  the  two  parties  here  came  into  collision.  On 
the  one  side  the  fierce  Benjamite  saw  the  Man  of 
Blood,”  stained,  as  it  must  have  seemed  to  him,  with 
the  slaughter  of  Abner  and  Ishbosheth,  and  the  seven 
princes  whose  cruel  death  at  Gibeon  was  fresh  in  the 
national  recollection.  On  the  other  side  the  wild  sons 
of  Zeruiah  saw  in  Shimei  one  of  the  dead  dogs,”  ^ or 

dogs’  heads,”  according  to  the  offensive  language 
bandied  to  and  fro  amongst  the  political  rivals  of  that 
age.  A deep  ravine  parted  the  King’s  march  from  the 
house  of  the  furious  Benjamite.  But  along  the  ridge 
he  ran,  throwing  stones  as  if  for  the  adulterer’s  punish- 
ment, or  when  he  came  to  a patch  of  dust  on  the  dry 
hill-side,  taking  it  up,  and  scattering  it  over  the  royal 
party  below,  with  the  elaborate  curses  of  which  only 
eastern  partisans  are  fully  masters,  — curses  wdiicb 
David  never  forgot,^  and  of  which,  according  to  tin 

1 2 Sam.  xvl.  1 (LXX.).  3 2 Sam.  xvi. ; comp.  1 Sam.  xxlv 

2 In  tlie  Jewish  traditions,  he  was  14;  2 Sam.  iii.  8. 

Identified  witli  Nebat,  fatlier  of  Jero-  ^ See  1 Kings  ii.  8.  It  was  be 
Doam,  “ first  of  the  house  of  Joseph  ” lieved  to  spell  out  the  words  dub 
'2  Sam.  xix.  20).  See  Jerome,  Qu.  terer,  jl/oabite,  /nfidel,  Z-eper,  Abom- 
fleh.  on  2 Sam.  xvi.  inable  (Jerome,  Qu.  Ileh.  ad.  loc.). 


Leer  XXIV. 


HIS  FLIGHT. 


135 


Jewish  tradition,  every  letter  was  significant.  The 
companions  of  David,  who  felt  an  insult  to  their  mastei 
as  an  injury  to  themselves,  could  hardly  restrain  them- 
selves. Abishai  — ■ with  a fiery  zeal,  which  reminds  us 
of  the  sons  of  Thunder  centuries  later  — would  fain 
have  rushed  across  the  defile,  and  cut  off  the  head  of 
the  blaspheming  rebel.  One  alone  retained  his  calmness. 
The  King,  with  a depth  of  feeling  undisturbed  by  any 
political  animosities,  bade  them  remember  that  after 
the  desertion  of  his  favorite  son  anything  was  tolerable, 
and  (with  the  turn  of  thought  so  natural  to  an  Oriental) 
that  the  curses  of  the  Benjamite  might  divert  some 
portion  of  the  Divine  anger  from  himself,  and  that  they 
were  in  a certain  sense  the  direct  words  of  God  Him- 
self”^ The  exiles  passed  on,  and  in  a state  of  deep 
exhaustion  reached  the  Jordan  valley,  and  there  rested 
after  the  long  eventful  day,^  at  the  ford  or  bridge  ® of 
the  river.  Amongst  the  thickets  of  the  Jordan,  the 
asses  of  Ziba  were  unladen,  and  the  weary  travellers 
refreshed  themselves,  and  waited  for  tidings  from  Jeru- 
salem. It  must  have  been  long  after  nightfall,  that  the 
joyful  sound  was  heard  of  the  two  youths,  sons  of  the 
High  Priests,  bursting  in  upon  the  encampment  with 
the  news  from  the  capital. 

Absalom  had  arrived  from  Hebron  almost  immedi- 
ately after  David’s  departure ; and,  by  the  counsel  of 
advice  of  Ahithophel,  took  the  desperate  step 
— the  decisive  assumption,  according  to  Oriental  usage, 
of  royal  rights  — of  seizing  what  remained  of  the  royal 
harem  in  the  most  public  and  offensive  manner.  Jlie 

1 “ The  Lord  hath  said  unto  him,  2 2 Sam.  xvi.  14,  xvii.  22. 

Curse  David  . . . Let  him  curse,  for  3 Joseph.  Ant.  vii.  11,  § 2. 

"he  Lord  hath  bidden  him.”  (2  Sam. 

Kvl  10,  11.) 


136 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV. 


next  advice  was  equally  bold.  The  aged  counselloi* 
offered,  himself,  that  very  night,  to  pursue  and  cut  off 
the  King  before  he  had  crossed  the  Jordan.  That  single 
death  would  close  the  civil  war.  The  nation  would 
return  to  her  legitimate  Prince,  as  a bride  to  her  hus- 
band.^ But  now  another  adviser  had  appeared  on  the 
stage,  — Hushai,  fresh  from  the  top  of  Olivet, 
and  Hushai.  professions  of  rebellion,  with  his 

ingenious  scheme  for  saving  his  royal  master.  He  drew 
a picture  of  the  extreme  difficulty  of  following  Ahi- 
thophel’s  counsel,  and  sketched  the  scheme  of  a general 
campaign.  It  shows  how  deeply  seated  was  the  dread 
of  David’s  activity  and  courage,  even  in  this  decline  of 
his  fortunes,  that  such  a counsel  should  have  swayed  the 
mind  of  the  rebel  Prince.  It  was  urged  with  all  the 
force  of  Eastern  poetry.  The  she-bear  in  the  open  field 
robbed  of  her  whelps,  the  wild  boar^  in  the  Jordan  val- 
ley, would  not  be  fiercer  than  the  old  King  and  his 
faithful  followers.  ’ David,  as  of  old,  would  be  concealed 
in  some  deep  cave,  or  on  some  inaccessible  hill,  and  all 
pursuit  would  be  as  vain  as  that  of  Saul  on  the  crags  of 
Engedi.  An  army  must  be  got  together  capable  of  sub- 
merging him  as  in  a shower  of  dew,  or  of  dragging  the 
fortress  in  which  he  may  have  been  intrenched,  stone  by 
stone,  into  the  valley.  Absalom  gave  way  to  the  false 
counsellor,  and  Hushai  immediately  sent  off  his  emis- 
saries to  David.  Near,  if  not  close  underneath  the 
eastern  walls  of  Jerusalem,  was  a spring,  known  as  the 
•^fullers’  spring,”^  where  the  two  sons  of  Zadok  and 
Abiathar  lay  ensconced,  waiting  for  their  orders  for  the 
King.  Thither,  like  the  women  at  Jerusalem  now,  came, 

1 2 Sara.  xvii.  3 (LXX.).  of  Joab,”  or  more  probably  the 

2 Ibid.  8 (LXX.).  “ Spring  of  the  Virgin.”  See  En- 

3 En-rogel,  either  the  present  “ well  ROGKl,  in  Dictionary  of  the  Bible. 


L«ct  XXIV. 


HIS  FLIGHT. 


137 


probably  as  it  to  wash  or  to  draw  water,  the  female  slavi' 
of  their  fathers’  house,  with  the  secret  tidings  which 
they  were  to  convey,  urging  the  King  to  immediate 
flight.  They  crossed  as  fast  as  their  swift  feet  could 
carry  them  over  Mount  Olivet.  Absalom  had  already 
caught  scent  of  them,  and  his  runners  were  hard  upon 
their  track.  Aside,  even  into  the  village  of  Bahurim, 
the  hostile  village  of  Shimei  and  Phaltiel,  they  darted. 
In  it  was  a friendly  house  which  they  sought.  In  its 
court,  they  climbed  down  a well,  over  the  mouth  of 
which  their  host’s  wife  spread  a cloth  with  a heap  of 
corn,  and  with  an  equivocal  reply  turned  aside  the  pur- 
suers. The  youths  hasted  on  down  the  pass,  woke  up 
the  King  from  his  sleep,  called  upon  him  to  cross  the 
water,”  ^ and  before  the  break  of  day,  the  whole  party 
were  in  safety  on  the  farther  side. 

It  has  been  conjectured  with  much  probability  that 
as  the  first  sleep  of  that  evening  w^as  commemoi  ated  in 
the  4th  Psalm,  so  in  the  3d  is  expressed  the  feeling  of 
David’s  thankfulness  at  the  final  close  of  those  twenty- 
four  hours  of  which  every  detail  has  been  handed  down, 
as  if  wuth  the  consciousness  of  their  importance  at  the 
time.  He  had  laid  him  down  in  peace  ” that  night 
and  slept ; ” for  in  that  great  defection  of  man,  the 
Lord  alone  had  caused  him  to  dwell  in  safety.  He  had 
laid  down  and  slept  and  awaked,  for  the  Lord  had  sus- 
tained  him.”  The  tradition  of  the  Septuagint  ascribes 
the  143d  Psalm  to  the  time  ^^when  his  son  was  pursu- 
ing  him.”  Some  at  least  of  its  contents  might  well 
belong  to  that  night.  Enter  not  into  judgment  with 
thy  servant,  0 Lord,  for  in  thy  sight  shall  no  man  liv- 
"ing  be  justified.”  Cause  me  to  hear  thy  lovingkind- 
“ness  in  the  morning;  for  in  thee  do  I trust:  cause  me 

1 So  the  river  is  apparently  called,  both  in  xvii.  20  and  21. 


138 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV 


to  know  the  way  wherein  I should  walk ; for  I lift  up 
“ my  soul  unto  thee.”  ^ 

There  is  another  group  of  Psalms  — the  41st,  the  55th, 
Death  of  69th,  and  the  109th — in  which  a long  pop- 

Ahithophei.  belief  has  seen  an  amplification  of  David’s 
bitter  cry,  0 Lord,  turn  the  counsel  of  Ahithophel  into 
foolishness.”^  Many  of  the  circumstances  agree.  The 
dreadful  imprecations  in  those  Psalms  — unequalled  for 
vehemence  in  any  other  part  of  the  sacred  writings  — ■ 
correspond  with  the  passion  of  David’s  own  expressions. 
The  greatness,  too,  of  Ahithophel  himself  in  the  history 
is  worthy  of  the  importance  ascribed  to  the  object  of 
those  awful  maledictions.  That  oracular  wisdom,  which 
made  his  house  a kind  of  shrine,^  seems  to  move  the 
spirit  of  the  sacred  writer  with  an  involuntary  admira- 
tion. Everywhere  he  is  treated  with  a touch  of  awful 
reverence.  When  he  dies,  the  interest  of  the  plot  ceases, 
and  his  death  is  given  with  a stately  grandeur,  quite 
unlike  the  mixture  of  the  terrible  and  the  contemptible 
which  has  sometimes  gathered  round  the  end  of  those 
whom  the  religious  sentiment  of  mankind  has  placed 
under  its  ban.  When  he  saw  that  his  counsel  was  not 
followed,  he  saddled  his  ass  ” — the  ass,  on  which  he, 
like  all  the  magnates  of  Israel  except  the  royal  family, 
made  his  journeys,  — he  mounted  the  southern  hills,  in 
which  his  native  city  lay  — and  put  his  household 
’^in  order,  and  hanged  himself,  and  died,  and  was 
buried,”  not  like  an  excommunicated  outcast,  but  like 
a venerable  Patriarch,  ^^in  the  sepulchre  of  his  fa- 


With  the  close  of  that  eventful  day,  a cloud  rests  on 
the  subsequent  history  of  the  rebellion.  For  three  ^ 


ther.” 


1 Ps.  cxliii.  2,  8. 

2 2 S»im.  .XV.  31. 


3 2 Sam.  xvl.  23. 

4 Ibid.  .xxlv.  13  (Kwald,  111.  236). 


Ljcct.  XXIV 


HIS  FLIGHT. 


139 


months  longer  it  seems  to  have  lasted.  Absalom 
formally  anointed  King.^  Amasa  — his  cousin,  but  by 
his  father’s  side  of  wild^  Arabian  blood  — took  the 
command  of  the  army,  which,  according  to  liiishai’s 
counsel,  had  been  raised  from  the  whole  country,  and 
with  this  he  crossed  the  Jordan  in  pursuit  of  the 
King. 

David  meantime  was  secure  in  the  fortress  of  Maha- 
naim,  the  ancient  Trans-Jordanic  sanctuary,  pavidat 
which  had  formerly  sheltered  the  rival  house  of 
Saul.  Three  potentates  of  that  pastoral  district  came 
forward  at  once  to  his  support.  Shobi,  the  son  of  David’s 
ancient  friend  Nahash,  king  of  Ammon,  perhaps  put 
by  David  ^ in  his  brother  Hamm’s  place ; Machir,  the 
son  of  Ammiel,  the  former  protector  of  Mephibosheth ; 
Barzillai,  an  aged  chief  of  vast  wealth  and  influence, 
perhaps  the  father  of  Ad  riel,  the  husband  of  Merab.^ 
Their  connection  with  David’s  enemies,  whether  of  the 
house  of  Saul  or  of  Ammon,  was  overbalanced  by  ear- 
lier alliances  with  David,  or  by  their  respect  for  him- 
self personally.  They  brought,  with  the  profuse  liber- 
ahty  of  Arabs,  the  butter,  cheese,  wheat,  barley,  flour, 
parched  corn,  beans,  lentiles,  pulse,  honey,  sheep,  with 
which  the  forests  and  pastures  of  Gilead  abounded,  and 
on  which  the  historian  dwells  as  if  he  had  been  himself 
one  of  the  hungry  and  weary  and  thirsty  ” who  had 
revelled  in  the  delightful  stores  thus  placed  before 
them.  The  fearfulness  and  trembling  ” which  had 
been  upon  David  were  now  over.  He  had  fled  on  the 
wings  of  a dove  far  away  into  the  wilderness,”  and 
was  at  rest.  His  spirit  revived  within  him.  He  arranged 

3 Jerome  (Qu.  Heb.  on  2 Sam. 
xvii.  27). 

* 1 Sam.  xviii.  19;  2 Sam.  xxi.  8 


1 2 Sam.  xi.x.  10. 
« 1 Chr.  ii.  17. 


140 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV 


his  army  into  three  divisions.  Joab  and  Abishai  com- 
manded two.  The  third,  where  we  might  have  ex- 
pected to  find  Benaiah,  was  under  the  faithful  IttaL 
For  a moment,  the  King  wished  to  place  himself  at 
their  head.  But  his  life  was  worth  ten  thousand  men,” 
and  he  accordingly  remained  behind  in  the  fortress. 
The  first  battle  took  place  in  the  forest  of  Ephraim.” 
The  exact  spot  of  the  conflict,  the  origin  of  the  name,^ 
so  strange  on  the  east  of  the  Jordan,  the  details  of  the 
engagement,  are  alike  unknown.  We  see  only  the 
close,  which  has  evidently  been  preserved  from  the 
mournful  interest  which  it  awakened  in  the  national 
mind.  In  the  interlacing  thickets,  so  unusual  on  the 
west  of  the  Jordan,  so  abundant  on  the  east,  which  the 
Ammonite  wars  had  made  familiar  to  David’s  veterans, 
Death  of  Absalom  lost  its  way.  Absalom 

Absalom.  ^i(Jing  at  full  Speed  on  his  royal  mule,  suddenly 
met  a detachment  of  David’s  army,  and  darting  aside 
through  the  wood,  was  caught  by  the  head  — possibly 
entangled  by  his  long  hair^  — ^ between  the  thick  boughs 
of  an  overhanging  tree,  known  by  the  name  of  ^‘The 
Great  Terebinth,”  swept  ^ off  the  animal,  and  there  re- 
mained suspended.  None  of  the  ordinary  soldiers  ven- 
tured to  attack  the  helpless  Prince.  Joab  alone  took 
upon  himself  the  responsibility  of  breaking  David’s  or- 
ders. He  and  his  ten  attendants  formed  a circle  round 
the  gigantic  tree,  enclosing  its  precious  victim,  and  first 
by  his  three  pikes,  then  by  their  swords,  accomplished 

1 Unless  it  be  connected  with  the  of  the  Bible,  in  the  case  of  a town 
itrong  fortress,  apparently  in  the  on  the  west  of  the  Jordan.  See  2 
neighborhood  of  Bethshean,  which  in  Chr.  xiil.  19  (Heb.),  and  article 
the  later  history  is  calh;d  h^phron  (1  Epiirain  in  Diet,  of  the  Bible. 

Macc.  V.  4G;  2 Macc.  xii.  27).  The  Joseplius,  Ant.  vii.  10,  § 2. 
same  transformation  from  Ej)hrain  3 2 Sam.  xviii.  9 (Heb.  and  LXX.) 

to  Ephron  actually  exists  in  the  Text 


Lbct.  XXIV. 


DEATH  OF  ABSALOM. 


141 


the  bloody  work.  Hard  by  was  a well-known  ditch  or 
pit,  of  vast  dimensions.  Into  this  the  corpse  was  thrown^ 
and  covered  by  a huge  mound  of  stones.  Mussul- 
man legends  represent  hell  as  yawning  at  the  moment 
of  his  death  beneath  the  feet  of  the  unhappy  Prince. 
The  modern  Jews,^  as  they  pass  the  monument  in  the 
valley  of  the  Kidron,  to  which  they  have  given  his 
name,  have  buried  its  sides  deep  in  the  stones  which 
they  throw  against  it  in  execration.  Augustine  dooms 
him  to  perdition,  as  a type  of  the  Donatists.  But  the 
sacred  writer  is  moved  only  to  deep  compassion.  The 
thought  of  that  sad  death  of  the  childless  Prince,  of  the 
desolate  cairn  in  the  forest  instead  of  the  honored  grave 
that  he  had  designed  for  himself  in  the  King’s  dale,  — ■ 
probably  beside  his  beloved  sheep-walks  on  the  hills  of 
Ephraim,  — blots  out  the  remembrance  of  the  treason 
and  rebellion,  and  every  detail  is  given  to  enhance  the 
pathos  of  the  scene  which  follows. 

The  King  sate  waiting  for  tidings  between  the  two 
gates  which  connected  the  double  city  of  the  Two 
Camps  ” of  Mahanaim.  In  the  tower  above  the  gates, 
as  afterwards  at  Jezreel,  stood  a watchman,  to  give 
notice  of  what  he  saw.  Two  messengers,  each  endeav- 
oring to  outstrip  the  other,  were  seen  running  from 
the  forest.  The  first  who  arrived  was  Ahimaaz,  the 
fleet  son  of  Zadok,  whose  peculiar  mode  of  running^ 
was  known  far  and  wide  through  the  country.  He 
had  been  instructed  by  Joab  not  to  make  himself  the 
bearer  of  tidings  so  mournful,  and — eager  as  he  had 
been  to  fulfil  his  character  of  a good  messenger,  and 

1 They  represent  the  monument  to  ^2  Sam.  xviii.  27,  and  possibly  23 
have  been  erected  between  his  cap-  (Ewald,  iii.  237). 
ture  and  his  death.  (Jerome,  Qu. 
ffeb.  ad.  loc.) 


142 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV 


dexterously  as  he  had  outstripped  his  forerunner  by 
the  choice  of  his  route  ^ — when  it  came  to  the  point 
his  heart  failed,  and  he  spoke  only  of  the  strange  con- 
fusion in  which  he  had  left  the  army.  At  this  moment 
the  other  messenger,  a stranger,  — probably  an  Ethio- 
pian slave,^  perhaps  one  of  Joab's  ten  attendants,  — 
burst  in,  and  abruptly  revealed  the  fatal  news.  The 
passionate  burst  of  grief  which  followed  is  one  of  the 
best  proofs  of  the  deep  and  genuine  affection  of  David's 
character.  He  rushed  into  the  watchman’s  chamber 
over  the  gateway,  and  eight  times  over  repeated  the 
wail  of  grief  for  Absalom  his  son.  It  was  the  belief  of 
the  more  merciful  of  the  Jewish  doctors  that  at  each 
cry,  one  of  the  seven  gates  of  hell  rolled  back,  and  that 
with  the  eighth,  the  lost  spirit  of  Absalom  was  received 
into  the  place  of  Paradise.^  It  was  a sorrow  which  did 
not  confine  itself  to  words.  He  could  not  forget  the 
hand  which  had  slain  his  son.  The  immediate  effect  of 
his  indignation  was  a solemn  vow  to  supersede  Joab  by 
Amasa,  and  in  this  was  laid  the  lasting  breach  between 
himself  and  his  nephew,  which  neither  the  one  nor  the 
other  ever  forgave.^  The  memorial  of  his  grief  was 
the  response  vrhich  it  awakened  in  the  heart  of  his 
subjects,  — the  lament  over  the  winning  and  beautiful 
creature,  whose  charm  outlived  the  shock  even  of  un- 
grateful, ungenerous,  and  unsuccessful  rebellion. 

But  stronger  even  than  his  tenderness  for  Absalom, 
was  the  love  of  David  for  his  people,  and  of 
his  people  for  David.  He  acknowledged  the 

1 2 Sara,  xviii.  23,  but  the  phrase  is  Bibliotheca  Jiabbinica,  ii.  127,  162. 

r^ry  obscure.  See  Professor  Plumptre’s  Reoolt  of 

2 “ The  Cushite,”  2 Sara,  xviii.  21,  Absalom,  in  Good  Words,  March, 

12,  81,  32,  33  (Ileb.).  1864. 

Ibid.  33 ; xix.  4.  Bartolocci's  ^ 2 Sara.  xix.  13. 


Lkct.  XXIV. 


THE  RESTORATION. 


143 


force  of  Joab’s  entreaty  to  show  himself  once  more  in 
public.  He  sent  to  Jerusalem  to  invoke  the  sympathy 
of  his  native  tribe  through  the  two  chief  Priests.  He 
came  down  from  the  eastern  hills  to  the  banks  of  the 
Jordan.  A ferry-boat,  or  a bridge^  of  boats,  was  in 
readiness  to  convey  the  King  across  the  river.  On  that, 
bridge,  foremost  in  his  professions  of  loyalty,  was  the 
savage  Shimei  of  Bahurim,  first  of  the  house  of  Joseph,” 
grovelling  in  penitence,  and  there,  in  spite  of  Abishai’s 
ever-recurring  anger,  won  from  David  the  oath  of  pro- 
tection, which,  in  word  at  least,  the  King  kept  sacred 
to  the  end  of  his  life.  Next  came  the  unfortunate 
Mephibosheth,  squalid  with  the  squalor  of  his  untrim- 
med moustache,^  his  clothes  unwashed,  his  nails  un- 
pared, his  long  hair  flowing  unshorn,^  and  his  lame 
feet^  untended,  since  he  had  wrapt  himself  in  deep 
mourning  on  the  day  of  his  benefactor’s  fall.  By  the 
judgment  — fair  or  unfair  — between  him  and  Ziba, 
was  concluded  the  final  amnesty  with  the  house  of 
Saul.®  There,  as  he  turned  away  from  the  wild  and 
hospitable  chiefs  who  had  befriended  him  in  his  exile, 
the  King  parted  reluctantly  from  the  aged  Gileadite 
Barzillai,  whom  he  vainly  tried  to  tempt  from  his  native 
forests  to  the  business  and  the  pleasures  of  the  court 
of  Jerusalem.  Chimham  the  son  of  Barzillai  took  his 
father’s  place,  and,  with  his  descendants,  long  remained 
in  Western  Palestine  a witness  of  the  loyalty  of  the 
Eastern  tribes.®  On  the  other  side  the  river  stood  in 
order  the  chiefs  of  Judah,  summoned  by  Zadok  and 


i 2 Sam.  xix.  18;  and  Josephus, 
Ant,  vii.  11,  § 2. 

a Ibid.  24  (Ileb.  and  LXX.) ; A. 
V.  “ beard.” 

3 Ibid,  and  Joseph.  Ant.  vii.  11,  § 3. 


4 “ Without  his  wooden  feet,”  says 
the  Jewii^h  tradition  (Jerome,  Qu. 
lleh  on  2 Sam.  xix.  24). 

^ See  Lecture  XXL 
6 Jer.  xli.  1 7.  See  Lecture  XXVI 


144 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV 


A.biatliar,  to  welcome  back  the  flesh  of  their  flesh  and 
bone  of  their  bones/’  Avhom  they  had  basely  deserted. 
With  them,  the  King  entered  his  capital,  and  the  Res- 
toration of  David  was  accomplished.^ 

Three  elements  had  been  at  work  in  the  insurrection. 
Revolt  of  — personal  struggle  of  Absalom  to  gain 
Sheba.  throne,  supported  by  the  tribe  of  Judah; 

the  still  lingering  hopes  of  the  house  of  Saul  and  of  the 
tribe  of  Benjamin,  as  indicated  in  the  suspicions  enter- 
tained against  Mephibosheth,  and  the  curses  uttered  by 
Shimei ; and  the  deep-roof  ed  feeling  of  Ephraim  and 
the  northern  tribes  against  Judah,  as  intimated  in  the 
campaign  on  the  other  side  the  Jordan.  Of  these  the 
first  was  now  entirely  extinguished.  But  the  two  lat- 
ter— never  to  be  entirely  extinguished  — burst  into 
flame  again  under  the  guidance  of  Sheba,  a Benjamite 
from  the  mountains  of  Ephraim.  lie  is  described  as  a 
man  of  Belial,”  — a man  of  naught,  — the  usual  term 
of  invective  cast  to  and  fro,^  between  the  various  parties 
in  the  state.  But  he  must  have  been  already  well 
known ; the  effect  produced  by  his  appearance  was 
immense.  The  occasion  which  he  seized  was  the  loyal 
emulation  of  the  northern  and  southern  tribes  in  the 
great  assemljly  gathered  at  Gilgal  for  the  return  of  the 
Kins:.  lie  at  that  critical  moment,  from  the  midst  of 
the  crowd,  blew  his  trumpet,  and  raised  the  cry  of 
revolt,  To  your  tents,  0 Israel.”  So  slight  was  the 
coherence  of  the  tribes  to  the  new  capital,  that  the 
whole  of  Palestine,  north  of  Judah,  followed  liim.  It 


1 To  many  English  readers,  the  Aliithophel  ” the  basis  of  Ills  ])olltlcal 
events  and  names  of  this  period  liave  poem  on  the  <-oui-t  of  King  GharleslI. 
icijuired  a double  interest  from  the  2 2 Sam.  xx.  1 ; see  xvi.  7,  xxii.  5, 
power  and  skill  with  which  Drytlen  &c. 
has  made  the  story  of  “ Absalom  and 


Lkct.  XXIV. 


MURDER  OF  AMASA. 


145 


was  in  fact  all  but  an  anticipation  of  tbe  disruption 
under  Jeroboam.  What  the  King  feared^  was  his  occu- 
pation of  the  fortified  towns.  It  was  in  the  chase  after 
Sheba,  as  he  ^vent  in  undisturbed  progress  through  the 
centre  of  the  country,  that'Joab  accomplished  his  cher- 
ished design.  He  had  lost  his  high  post  as  commander- 
in-chief  In  the  heat  of  the  pursuit,  he  encountered  his 
rival  Amasa,  more  leisurely  engaged  in  the  same  quest. 
At  the ' great  stone  ” in  Gibeon,  the  cousins  Murder  of 
met.  Amasa  rushed  into  the  treacherous  em- 
brace  to  which  Joab  invited  him,  and  Joab,  with  the 
same  sudden  stroke  that  had  dealt  the  death-wound  of 
Abner,  plunged  his  sword,  which,  whether  by  design  or 
accident,  protruded  from  its  sheath,  deep  into  Amasa’s 
bowels.  Amasa  fell:  Joab  and  Abishai  hurried  on  in 
their  pursuit.  The  dead  body  lay  soaking  in  a pool  of 
blood  by  the  road-side.  As  the  army  came  up,  every  one 
halted  at  the  ghastly  sight,  till  the  attendant  whom  Joab 
had  left  dragged  it  aside,  and  threw  a cloth  over  it. 
Then,  as  if  the  spell  was  broken,  they  followed  Joab, 
now  once  more  captain  of  the  host.  He,  when  they 
overtook  him,  presented  an  aspect  long  afterwards 
remembered  with  horror.  The  blood ^ of  Amasa  had 
spurted  all  over  the  girdle  to  which  the  sword  was 
attached,  and  the  sandals  on  his  feet  w^ere  red  with  the 
stains  left  by  the  falling  corpse.  But,  though  this  was 
not  forgotten  by  the  court  or  camp,  for  the  moment  all 
were  absorbed  in  the  chase  after  the  rebels.  It  seems  to 
have  been  Sheba’s  intention  to  establish  himself  in  the 
fortress  of  Abel-Beth-Maacah,  in  the  northwest  extremity 
of  Palestine,  possibly  allied  to  the  cause  of  Absalom 
through  his  mother  Maacah,  whose  name  it  bore,  and  in 

1 2 Sam.  XX.  6.  1 Kings  il.  5.  See  Mr.  Grove  in  Dic^ 

2 Ibid.  XX.  10,  12,  compared  witli  tionary  of  the  Bible,  on  Arms. 

VOL.  II.  10 


146 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV 


whose  kingdom  it  was  situated.  It  was  a city  famous  for 
the  prudence  of  its  inhabitants.  That  prudence  was  put 
to  the  test  on  the  present  occasion.  The  same  appeal 
was  addressed  to  Joab’s  sense  of  the  evils  of  an  endless 
civil  war,  as  before  by  Abner.^  He  demanded  only  the 
head  of  the  rebel  chief  It  was  thrown  over  the  wall  to 
him,  and  he  retired,  and  the  great  catastrophe  of  the 
disruption  was  averted  for  another  generation. 

The  closing  period  of  David’s  life  is  marked  by  one 
more  dark  calamity.  The  occasion  which  led 

The  Census. 

to  tins  was  the  census  of  the  people  taken  by 
Joab  at  the  King’s  orders  an  attempt  not  unnaturally 
suggested  by  the  increase  of  his  power,  but  implying  a 
confidence  and  pride  alien  to  the  spirit  inculcated  on 
the  kings  of  the  chosen  people.  The  apprehension  of  a 
Nemesis  on  any  overweening  display  of  prosperity,  if 
not  consistent  with  the  hiHiest  revelations  of  the  Divine 

o 

nature  in  the  Gospel,  pervades  all  ancient,  especially  all 
Oriental,  religions.  A like  feeling  is  expressed  in  the 
Mosaic  law,  which  at  every  numbering  of  the  people 
enjoins  that  a tax  or  ransom  shall  be  paid  by  every 
male,  ^Hest  there  be  a plague  among  the  people;’’^  a^nd 
although  such  a census  is  recorded  both  before  and 
afterwards  without  blame,  yet  there  was  evidently  some- 
thing in  David’s  attitude  or  the  circumstances  of  the 
time,  which  provoked  an  uneasy  doubt  in  the  minds  of 
his  subjects.  The  repugnance  even  of  the  unscrupulous 
Joab  was  such  that  he  refused^  to  number  Levi  and 
Benjamin.  Tlie  King  also  hesitated  to  count  those  who 
were  under  twenty  years  of  age,  seemingly  lest  an 

1 2 Sam.  ii.  2G.  of  this  law,  according  to  Josephus, 

2 Ibid,  x.xiv.  1-9;  1 Chr.  x.xi.  Ant.  vii.  19,  § 1,  consisted  David’s 

1-7  ; xxvii.  2.3,  24.  sin. 

3 Exod.  XXX.  12.  In  the  neglect  **  1 Chr.  xxi.  6. 


Lict.XXIV. 


THE  PLAGUE. 


147 


exact  enumeration  should  appear  to  contradict  the 
promise  of  the  countless  multitudes  ^ of  Abraham’s  seed. 
The  final  result  was  never  recorded  in  the  ^^Chron- 
icles ” ^ of  King  David.  The  act  which  the  earlier  nar- 
rative ascribes  directly  to  the  prompting  of  God,  the 
later  Chronicler  ascribes  to  the  prompting  of  Satan. 

A complete  survey,  with  all  the  array  of  military 
camps,  was  set  on  foot,  which  reached  to  the 
very  extremities  of  the  kingdom,  and  lasted 
for  nearly  a year.  Before  it  was  completed,  almost  si- 
multaneously in  David’s  own  mind,  and  in  the  Prophetic 
warnings  which  pointed  the  moral  of  the  political  events 
of  the  monarchy,  the  sense  of  its  wrong  — whatever 
that  might  be  — made  itself  felt.  It  was  this  time  not 
Nathan,  but  Gad,  who  was  charged  with  the  Divine 
rebuke.  But  it  is  David  himself  who  in  the  choice 
between  the  three  calamities  offered  to  him,  utters  the 
high  Prophetic  truth  which  finds  a response  in  the 
nobler  souls  of  every  age.  Better  any  external  calam- 
ity  than  those  which  are  embittered  by  human  violence 
and  weakness.”  The  judgment  descended  in  the  form 
of  a tremendous  Pestilence,  — “a,  Death  ” as  it  is  expres- 
sively termed  in  the  original,  like  the  Black  Death  ” 
of  the  middle  ages.  Appearing  in  the  heat  of  the  sum- 
mer^ months,  aggravated  by  the  very  greatness  of  the 
population  which  had  occasioned  the  census,  spreading 
with  the  rapidity  of  an  Oriental  disorder  in  crowded 
habitations,  it  flew  from  end  to  end  of  the  country  in 
three  days,  and  at  last  approached  Jerusalem.  The 
new  capital,  the  very  heart  of  the  nation,  the  peculiar 
glory  of  David’s  reign,  seemed  to  be  doomed  to  destruc- 
tion. 


1 1 Chr.  xxvii.  23. 
a Ibid.  24. 


3 “ In  the  days  of  wheat-harvest.** 
(2  Sam.  xxiv.  15 ; LXX.) 


148 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect,  XXIV. 


It  is  here  that,  through  the  many  variations  ^ of  the 
two  narratives  which  record  the  event,  and  athwart 
their  figurative  language,  a scene  emerges  which  has 
left  its°trace  on  the  history  of  Jerusalem  even  to  the 
present  day.  Immediately  outside  the  eastern  walls  of 
tlie  city  was  a spot  well  known  as  belonging  to  a wealthy 
chief  of  the  conquered  race  of  J ebus ; one  who,  accord- 
ing to  tradition,^  was  spared  by  David  from  old  friend- 
ship, perhaps  contracted  in  his  wanderings,  at  the  time 
of  the  capture  of  the  city ; who,  according  to  the  prob- 
able interpretation  of  the  sacred  text,  had  been  the 
king^  of  the  ancient  Jebus.  Ilis  name  is  variously 
given  in  the  original  as  Aranyah,  Ha-avarnah,  Haornah, 
Araunah,  and  Oman.  On  his  property  was  a threshing- 
floor,  beside  a rocky  cave  where  he  and  his  sons  were 
engaged  in  threshing  the  corn  gathered  in  from  the 
harvest."  Above  this  spot  is  said  to  have  appeared  an 
awful  vision,  such  as  is  described  in  the  later  days  of 
Jerusalem,  or  in  the  pestilence  of  Rome  under  Gregory 
the  Great,  or  in  our  own  Plague  of  London,  of  a celestial 
Messenger  stretching  out  a drawn  sword  between  earth 
and  sky  over  the  devoted  city.*  It  was  precisely  at  the 

. The  variations  between  2 Sam.  king”  in  2 Sam.  .xxiv.  “Ornan” 
xxiv  1-25  and  1 Chr.  xxi.  1-30,  are  and  tlie  omission  of  his  royal  dignity 
full  of  instruction.  (1.)  “ The  Lord  in  1 Chr.  xxi.  (6.)  The  descent  of 
provoked  David,”  2 Sam.  xxiv.  1.  fire  on  the  altar  is  only  m 1 Chr.  xxi, 
“ Satan  provoked  David,”  1 Chr.  xxi.  26.  . . i 

1 (2  ) Joab’s  scruple  is  mentioned  3 2 Sam.  xxiv.  23.  In  the  original 

only  in  1 Chr.  xxi.  6.  (3.)  " Seven  the  expression  is  much  stronger  than 

years’  famine”  in  2 Sam.  xxiv.  13.  in  the  A.  V.-“  Araunah,  the  king. 

“ Three  years’ famine”  in  1 Chr.  .xxi.  3 1 Chr.  xxi.  20.  _ , , , 

12  (4.)  All  the  particulars  of  the  “ 'I'his  apparition  is  also  described 

aimel’s  sword  - the  alarm  of  David  - in  a fragment  of  the  heathen  historian 
the  alarm  of  Ornan  — the  irniiedinumt  Eiqiolemu.s  (Eus.  Praep.  hv.  ix.  30), 
which  it  oiiposed  to  David’s  aiiproach  but  is  confused  with  the  warning  o 
to  (ii’oeon-are  only  in  I Chr.  xxi.  Nathan  against  buihling  the  temple. 
15,  16,  20,  30.  f5.)  Araunah  the  “An  angel  pointed  out  the  place 


UcT.  XXIV. 


ARAUNAH  AND  DAVID. 


149 


moment  when  David  with  the  chiefs  of  Israel  were 
moving  in  the  penitential  garb  of  sackcloth  towards  the 
ancient  sanctuary  of  Gibeon/  that  this  omen  deterred 
their  advance.  Beside  the  rocky  threshing-floor  ^raunah 
the  two  Princes  met,  — the  fallen  King  of  the 
ancient  fortress,  the  neAV  King  of  the  restored  capital,  — 
each  moved  alike  by  the  misfortunes  of  a city  which  in 
different  senses  belonged  to  each.  Araunah  with  his 
four  sons  had  hid  himself  in  the  cave  which  adjoined 
the  threshing-floor,  and  crept  out  with  a profound  obei- 
sance as  he  saw  the  conqueror  of  his  race  approach. 
David,  with  a feeling  worthy  of  his  noble  calling,  and  in 
words  which  well  befit  the  Shepherd  King,  entreated 
the  concentration  of  the  Divine  judgment  on  himself, 
the  only  offender.  These  sheep,  what  have  they  done? 
Let  thy  hand  be  against  me  and  against  my  father’s 
house.”  It  was  one  of  those  great  calamities  which  call 
out  the  most  generous  sentiments  of  the  human  heart, 
and  out  of  wdiich  the  most  permanent  religious  institu- 
tions take  their  rise.  The  spot,  so  closely  connected  in 
the  minds  of  both  with  the  cessation  of  the  pestilence, 
was  to  be  consecrated  by  a royal  altar.  The  Jewish 
King  asked  of  his  heathen  predecessor  the  site  of  the 
threshing-floor;  the  Jebusite  King  gave  with  a liberality 
equal  to  the  generosity  with  which  David  insisted  in 
paying  the  price  for  it.  The  altar  at  once  was  invested 
with  the  most  sacred  sanction.  The  Avhole  hill  assumed 
from  the  Divine  Vision  the  name  of  Moriah,^  the  vision 
‘^of  Jehovah.”  The  spot  itself  in  a few  years  became 
the  site  of  the  altar  of  the  Temple,  and  therefore  the 

where  the  altar  was  to  be,  but  forbade  many  wars.  His  name  was  Diana- 

him  to  build  the  temple,  as  being  than  '' 

stained  with  blood,  and  having  fought  t 1 Chr.  xxi.  28-30. 

2 2 Chr.  iii.  1. 


150 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVHD. 


Lecf.  XXIV. 


centre  of  the  national  worship,  with  but  slight  interrup- 
tion, for  more  than  a thousand  years,  and,  according  to 
some  authorities,  is  still  preserved  in  the  rocky  platform 
and  cave,  regarded  with  almost  idolatrous  veneration, 
under  the  Mussulman  Dome  of  the  Rock.” 

It  was  the  meeting  of  two  ages.  Araunah,  as  he 
yields  that  spot,  is  the  last  of  the  Canaanites ; the  last 
of  that  stern  old  race  that  we  discern  in  any  individual 
form  and  character.  David,  as  he  raises  that  altar,  is 
the  close  harbinger  of  the  reign  of  Solomon,  the  founder 
of  a new  institution  which  another  was  to  complete. 
Long  before,  he  had  cherished  the  notion  of  a mighty 
Temple  which  should  supersede  the  temporary  tent  on 
Mount  Zion.  Two  reasons  were  given  for  delay.^  One, 
that  the  ancient  nomadic  form  of  worship  was  not  yet 
to  be  abandoned  the  other,  that  David’s  wars^  unfitted 
him  to  be  the  founder  of  a seat  of  peaceful  worship.^ 
But  a solemn  assurance  was  given  that  his  dynasty 
should  last  “ for  ever  ” to  continue  the  work.®  Such  a 
founder,  and  the  ancestor  of  such  an  immortal  dynasty, 
was  Solomon  to  be.  We  are  already  almost  within  the 
confines  of  his  reign,  and  to  this  all  that  remains  of 
David’s  life  — the  preparation  ® for  the  Temple,  the  last 
struggle  between  Adonijah  and  Solomon  ' — properly 
belong. 

In  the  tumult  and  anxiety  of  tliat  final  contention. 
His  last  aged  King  was  released.  Three  versions 

words.  latest  words  appear  in  the  sacred  record. 

1 This  is  the  subject  of  one  of‘  the  ^ 1 Chr.  xxii.  8. 

apocryphal  colloquies  (Fabricius,  p.  ^ 2 Sam.  vii.  13;  1 Chr.  xxii.  9. 

1004).  6 According  to  1 Chr.  xxii.  2-19, 

2 2 Sam.  vii.  6,  7.  xxviii.  1-xxix.  19.  Eupolcmus  (see 

3 In  this  res])cct  David  still  be-  Eusebius,  Pracp.  Ev.  ix.  30)  makes 
onged  to  the  older  generation  of  David  send  fleets  for  these  stores  to 
heroes.  (See  Jerome,  Qucest.  Heh.  Elath  and  to  Ophlr. 

on  2 Sam.  vii.  8.)  7 j Kings  1.  5 — ii.  46. 


Lkct.  XXIV. 


HIS  LAST  WORDS. 


151 


One,  which  no  admirer  of  his  heroic  character  can  read 
without  a pang,  breathes  the  union  of  tender  gratitude 
for  past  services  with  the  fierce  and  profound  vindictive- 
ness which  belongs  to  the  worse  nature  of  his  age,  his 
family,  and  his  own  character.  Chimliam  and  his  chil- 
dren were  specially  commended  to  Solomon’s  care ; but 
a dark  legacy  of  long -cherished  vengeance,  like  that 
which  was  found  in  the  hands  of  the  dead  Constantine, 
was  bequeathed  to  his  successor  against  the  aged  Joab, 
and  the  aged  Shimei.  We  need  not  darken  the  crime 
by  adding  to  it  the  explanation  of  the  Jewish  traditions: 
that  David,  knowing  by  a vision  the  future  descent  of 
Mordecai  ^ and  Esther  from  the  accursed  Benjamite,  had 
withheld  the  hand  of  Abishai  till  the  ancestor  of  the 
future  deliverers  was  born,  and  then  gave  up  his  enemy 
to  the  tender  mercies  of  Solomon. 

Another  aspect  of  more  pleasing  color  is  given  to  the 
close  of  his  reign  in  the  later  Chronicles,  where  the 
dying  monarch  is  represented  as  starting  once  more  ^ to 
his  feet,  and  laying  upon  his  son  the  solemn  charge  of 
completing  the  Temple,  which  he  himself  had  not  been 
allowed  to  begin.  It  binds  together  in  close  union  the 
reigns  of  the  father  and  the  son,  and  throws  the  halo 
of  David’s  glory  over  the  more  secular  splendor  of 
Solomon.  Thine  is  the  greatness,  and  the  power,  and 
the  glory,  and  the  victory,  and  the  majesty.  . . . Both 
riches  and  honor  come  of  Thee,  and  Thou  reignest 
^^over  all.  . . . But  who  am  I,  and  what  is  my  people, 
that  we  should  be  able  to  offer  so  willingly  after  this 
sort  ? for  all  things  come  of  Thee,  and  of  Thine  own 
'^have  we  given  Thee.  For  we  are  strangers  before 
Thee,  and  sojourners,  as  were  all  our  fathers : our  days 

I Tar<rum  on  Esther  ii.  5.  See  ^ i xxviii.  2. 

Mordecai  in  Dictionary  of  the  Bible. 


152 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV 


on  earth  are  as  a shadow,  and  there  is  none  abiding  ” 
So  speaks  the  religious  munificence  of  all  ages,  — so 
speaks  the  founder  of  the  Jewish  Empire,  and  of  the 
Jewish  Temple. 

There  is  yet  a third  utterance,  still  more  emphati- 
cally and  authentically  stated  to  be  the  last  words  of 
David  : ” which  expresses  still  more  fully  at  once  the 
light  and  shade,  the  strength  and  weakness,  of  his  whole 
reign  and  character. 

David  the  son  of  Jesse,”  — so  he  remains  to  the 
end ; always  with  his  family  affections  fresh  and  bright, 
his  father  and  his  early  kinsmen  never  forgotten  amidst 
his  subsequent  splendor.  The  man  who  was  raised  up 
on  high.”  — This  feeling,  too,  never  deserted  him,  — 
the  sense  of  the  marvellous  change  which  had  placed 
a shepherd-boy  on  the  throne  of  a mighty  empire.  To 
^^be  the  anointed  — the  Messiah — of  the  God  of  Jacob.” 
Anointed  ” by  Samuel  in  his  early  ’youth  — anointed 
by  the  chiefs  of  Hebron  on  his  first  accession  to  the 
throne  — but  through  those  human  hands  and  human 
agencies,  he  sees  the  hand  and  agency  of  God  Himself. 

The  God  of  Jacob,”  — an  expression  which  is  im- 
portant as  showing  that  at  that  time  the  story  of  Jacob 
— his  wanderings,  his  repose  on  God’s  care  — were 
familiar  to  David,^  not  without  a recollection  of  the 
likeness  of  his  life  to  that  of  the  persecuted  patriarch. 
The  sweet  singer  of  Israel.”  — Pleasant  in  the  songs 
of  Israel.”  It  may  be  that  he  thus  describes  himself 
as  endeared  to  the  nation  through  his  own  songs,  or 
that  he  is  the  darling  of  the  songs  of  his  people,  as 
when  the  maidens  sang,  Saul  has  slain  his  thousands, 
‘•'and  David  his  tens  of  thousands.” 

1 “ The  generation  of  them  that  of  Jacob.”  “ He  sought  a habitation 
seek  tliy  face,  O .Jacob  ”( Psalm  xxlv.  for  the  miglity  God  of  Jacob”  (Pa 
6).  “lie  vowed  to  the  mighty  God  cxxxii.  2,  5). 


UCT.  XXIV. 


HIS  LAST  WORDS. 


153 


And  now  comes  the  prophecy,”  — the  divine  out^ 
pouring  ” ^ of  his  soul,  — 

“ The  Spirit  of  Jehovah  speaks  in  me, 

And  His  strains  are  on  my  tongue  — 

The  God  of  Israel  said  to  me  — 

The  Rock  of  Israel  spake.” 

It  was  the  Breath”  or  Spirit”  of  Jehovah  that 
passed  through  his  frame,  and  His  poetic  strains  ” that 
dwelt  on  his  tongue,  — the  words  of  Him  who  was  the 
ruling  Force  and  the  central  Rock  of  the  whole  nation. 

“ He  that  ruleth  over  men  justly  — 

Ruling  in  the  fear  of  God  — 

So  is  it,  as  the  light  of  the  morning,  at  the  rising  of  the  sun  — 

A morning,  and  no  clouds  — 

After  a clear  shining,  after  rain,  tender  grass  springs  from  the  earth.” 


This  is  the  ideal  of  a just  reign,  — whether,  as  look- 
ing back  upon  his  own,  or  forwards  to  that  of  Solomon.^ 
The  ruler  just  to  men,  and  reverent  towards  God,  sug- 
gests immediately  the  brilliant  sunrise  of  the  East : the 
cloudless  sky  above  — the  grass,  so  exquisitely  green  in 
those  dry  countries,  immediately  after  rain,  and  glisten- 
ing in  the  sunbeams. 

But  he  has  hardly  caught  this  vision  before,  whether 
in  prospect  or  retrospect,  it  is  instantly  overclouded. 

“ For  not  so  is  my  house  with  God  — 

For  an  everlasting  covenant  He  made  with  me,  ordered  in  all  things 
and  sure. 

For  this  is  all  my  salvation  and  all  my  desire  — 

Assuredly  He  will  not  cause  it  to  grow  (or  ‘ will  He  not  cause  it  to 
grow?’).” 

It  is  hard  to  unravel  these  entangled  sentences ; yet 

i Such  is  the  force  of  the  word  ren-  2 gee  the  comparison  of  the  moral 
iered  “ speaks.”  and  the  natural  world  in  Ps.  xix 


154 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV 


they  doubtless  present  in  a short  compass  the  contrast 
between  his  hopes  of  what  his  dynasty  might  be/  and 
his  fears  of  what  it  would  be ; and  underneath  both 
hopes  and  fears  his  confidence  in  the  Divine  promise 
which  pledged  to  his  race  an  eternal  future.  It  is  a 
prediction,  but  a prediction  wrapt  up  in  that  undefined 
suspense,  and  that  dependence  on  moral  conditions, 
wdiicli  so  w^ell  distinguish  the  predictions  of  sacred 
Prophets  from  the  predictions  of  Pagan  soothsayers. 

“ But  the  men  of  ill  — like  scattered  thorns  are  they  all,  for  not  with 
the  hand  does  one  grasp  them. 

And  the  man  that  shall  touch  them 

Must  be  fenced  with  iron  and  the  wood  of  spears. 

And  with  fire  they  shall  be  burnt  and  burnt  on  the  hearth.” 

He  turns  from  the  apprehension  for  his  house  to  the 
recollection  of  those  who  had  troubled  his  own  reim 

O 

from  first  to  last.  The  sons  of  Zeruiah  ” have  been 
the  constant  vexation  of  his  life.^  He  contrasts  the  soft 
delicate  green  of  the  kingdom  in  its  prosperity  with  the 
thorny  thickets  which  can  only  be  approached  with  axes 
and  long  priming-hooks.  These  are  the  evil  growth  of 
the  court  even  of  a righteous  king;  to  root  and  burn 
them  out  is  his  duty  as  much  as  the  encouragement  of 
the  good. 

It  is  a melancholy  strain  to  close  a song  which  begins 
go  full  of  brightness  and  joy.  But  it  is  a true  picture 
of  the  checkered  life  of  David,  and  of  the  checkered 
fortunes  of  the  ruler  amongst  men.  It  is  a true  picture 
of  the  “ broken  lights  ” of  the  human  heart,  whether  in 
Judea  or  in  England,  wdiether  of  king  or  peasant.  If 
there  be  any  part  of  Scripture  which  betrays  the  move- 
ments  of  the  human  individual  soul,  it  is  this  precious 

I Comp.  P.S.  Ixxxix.  2 Comp.  Ps.  ci. 


LiKCT.  XXIV. 


HIS  TOMB. 


155 


fragment  of  David’s  life.  If  there  be  any  part  which 
claims  for  itself,  and  which  gives  evidence  of  the  breath- 
ing of  the  Spirit  of  God,  it  is  this  also.  Such  a rugged, 
two-edged  monument  is  the  fitting  memorial  of  the 
man  who  was  at  once  the  King  and  the  Prophet,  the 
Penitent  and  the  Saint,  of  the  ancient  Church. 

David  died,  according  to  Josephus,^  at  the  age  of 
seventy.  The  general  sentiment  which  forbade 

« His  death. 

interment  within  the  habitations  ol  men,  gave 
way  in  his  case,  as  in  that  of  Samuel.  He  was  buried 
in  the  city  of  David,”  — in  the  city  which  he  had  made 
his  own,  and  which  could  only  be  honored,  not  polluted, 
by  containing  his  grave.  It  was,  no  doubt,  hewn  in  the 
rocky  sides  of  the  hill,  and  became  the  centre  of  the 
catacomb  in  which  his  descendants,  the  kings  of  Judah, 
were  interred  after  him.  It  remained  one  of  the  land- 
marks of  the  ruined  city,  after  the  return  from  the 
Captivity,  between  Siloah  and  the  guardhouse  of  the 
mighty  men,”  ^ — of  his  own  faithful  body-guard,  and 
it  was  pointed  out  down  to  the  latest  times  of  the  Jewish 
people.  His  sepulchre  is  with  us  unto  this  day,”  says 
St.  Peter®  at  Pentecost;  and  Josephus^  states  that 
Solomon  having  buried  a vast  treasure  in  the 

p • 1 1 11  tomb 

tomb,  one  of  its  chambers  was  broken  open 
by  Ilyrcanus,  and  another  by  Herod  the  Great.  It  is 
said  to  have  fallen  into  ruin  in  the  time  of  Hadrian.® 
The  vast  cavern,  with  its  many  tombs,  no  doubt  exists 
under  the  ruins  of  Jerusalem,  and  its  discovery  will 
close  many  a controversy  on  the  topography  of  the 
Holy  City.  But  down  to  this  time  its  situation  is  un- 
known. Jerome  speaks®  of  a tomb  of  David,  as  tlie 


1 Ant.  vii.  15,  § 2. 

2 Neb.  iii.  IC. 

3 Acts  ii.  29. 


4 Ant.  vii.  15,  § 3 ; xiii.  8,  § 1 ; xvi 

7,  §1.^ 

5 Dio  Cassius,  Ixix.  14. 

6 Ep.  ad  Marcellam,  xlvl.  § 12. 


156 


THE  FALL  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXIV. 


object  of  pilgrimage,  but  apparently  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Bethlehem.  A large  catacomb  at  some  distance 
to  the  northwest  of  the  city  has  in  modern  days  borne 
the  title  of  ''  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings,”  and  has  been 
of  late  years  by  an  ingenious  French  traveller  claimed 
as  the  royal  sepulchre.^  The  only  site  which  is  actually 
consecrated  by  traditional  sentiment  as  the  Tomb  of 
David  is  the  vault  underneath  the  Mussulman  Mosque 
of  David  on  the  southern  side  of  modern  Jerusalem. 
The  vault  professes  to  be  built  above  the  cavern,  and 
contains  only  the  cenotaph,  usual  in  the  tombs  of  Mus- 
sulman saints,  with  the  inscription  in  Arabic,  0 David, 

whom  God  has  made  vicar,  rule  ^ mankind  in  truth.” 

1 In  the  Louvre  may  now  be  seen  and  therefore  cannot  be  identified 
what  M.  de  Saulcy  believed  to  be  the  with  the  tomb  of  David,  of  which  the 
fid  of  David’s  sarcophagus  (see  De  peculiarity  was  that  it  was  within  the 
Saulcy,  Narrative,  &c.  ii.  162-215).  walls  (see  Robinson,  iii.  p.  253).^  ^ 

The  mala  objection  to  this  theory,  2 See  the  description  of  a visit  to 
apart  from  any  archseological  argu-  the  Tomb  in  Appendix  to  Sermons  in 
ment  to  be  drawn  from  the  character  the  East,  p.  149,  and  for  the  tra- 
of  the  design  or  workmanship  of  the  ditions,  AVilliaras’s  Holy  City,  ii.  505- 
remains,  ie  that  these  sepulchres  must  513. 
always  have  been  outside  the  walls, 


LECTURE  XXV. 


THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVID. 

We  have  seen  how  the  position  of  David  is  virtually 
that  of  the  Founder  of  the  Jewish  Monarchy.  The  char- 


sible  form.  The  city  of  David  ” — The  seed  of  Da- 
vid  ” — The  house  of  David  ” — ^^The  key  of  David  ” 
The  oath  sworn  unto  David  ” — are  expressions  which 
pervade  the  whole  subsequent  history  and  poetry  of 
the  Old  Testament,  and  much  of  the  figurative  language 
of  the  New.  The  cruelty,  the  self-indulgence,  the  too 
ready  falsehood  have  appeared  sufficiently  in  the  events 
of  his  history.  But  there  was  a grace,  a charm  about 
him  which  entwined  the  affections  of  the  nation  round 
his  person  and  his  memory,  and  made  him,  in  spite  of 
the  savage  manners  of  the  time  and  the  wildness  of 
bis  own  life,  at  once  the  centre  of  something  like  a 
court,  the  head  of  a new  civilization.  He  was  a born 
king^  of  Israel  by  his  natural  gifts.  His  immense  ac- 
tivity and  martial  spirit  united  him  by  a natural  suc- 
cession to  the  earlier  chiefs  of  Israel,  whilst  his  accom- 
plishments and  genius  fitted  him  especially  to  exercise 
a vast  control  over  the  whole  future  greatness  of  the 
Church  and  commonwealth. 

The  force  and  passion  of  the  ruder  age  was  blended 
with  a depth  of  emotion  which  broke  out  in  everj^  rela- 
tion of  life.  Never  before  had  there  been  such  a faith- 


1 See  Ewald,  ill.  154. 


158 


THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXV 


ful  friend,  such  an  affectionate  father.  Never  before 
had  king  or  chief  inspired  such  passionate  loyalty,  or 
given  it  back  in  equal  degree.  The  tenderness  of  his 
personal  affection  penetrated  his  public  life.  He  loved 
his  people  with  a pathetic  compassion,  beyond  even 
that  of  Moses.  Even  from  the  history  we  gather  that 
the  ancient  fear  of  God  was,  for  the  first  time,  passing 
into  the  love  of  God.  In  the  vision  of  David  in  Para- 
dise, as  related  by  Mohammed,  he  is  well  represented  as 
offering  up  the  prayer,  ^^0  Lord,  grant  to  me  the  love 
of  Thee  ; grant  that  I may  love  those  that  love  Thee  ; 
grant  that  I may  do  the  deeds  that  may  win  thy 
^Gove.  Make  the  love  of  Thee  to  be  dearer  to  me 
than  myself,  my  family,  than  wealth,  and  even  than 
cool  water.”  ^ 

No  other  Jewish  hero  has  compassed  that  extreme 
versatility  of  character  which  is  so  forcibly  described  in 
the  striking  Song  to  David  ” written  by  the  half-crazed 
English  poet^  with  coal  on  the  walls  of  his  madhouse,— - 

“ Pleasant  and  various  as  the  year  ” — 

“ Priest,  champion,  sage,  and  boy.” 

Jacob  was  the  nearest  approach  to  this  complexity  of 
character.  But  David,  standing  at  a higher  point  of 
the  sacred  history,  of  necessity  embraces  a greater  fid- 
ness  of  materials.  He  is  the  man  after  God’s  own 
heart,”  not  in  the  sense  of  a faultless  saint,  — far  from 
it,  even  according  to  the  defective  standard  of  Jewish 
morality ; still  further  from  it,  if  we  compare  " him  with 
the  Christianity  of  a civilized  age ; but  in  the  sense  of 
the  man  who  was  chosen  ^ for  his  own  special  work,^  — 

1 Jclaladdin,  p.  288.  Tliis  limited  sense  is  evidently 

2 Christopher  Smart.  that  of  the  only  passage  where  the 

3 This  Is  well  put  In  Dean  Mil-  phrase  occurs,  1 Sam  xIII.  14.  The 
man’s  History  of  the  Jews,  I.  306.  far  stronger  expression  In  1 Kings 


Lect.  XX  V. 


ITS  ORIGIN. 


159 


the  work  of  pushing  forward  his  nation  into  an  entirely  ' 
new  position,  both  religious  and  social. 

But  the  hold  which  David  has  fixed  on  the  memory 
of  the  Church  and  the  world  is  of  a deeper  origin  of 
kind  than  any  which  he  derives  even  from  the  ^^saiter 
romance  of  his  life  or  the  attractiveness  of  his  character. 
He  was  not  only  the  Founder  of  the  Monarchy,  but  the 
Founder  of  the  Psalter.  He  is  the  first  great  Poet  of 
Israel.  Although  before  his  time  there  had  been  occa- 
sional bursts  of  Hebrew  poetry,  yet  David  is  the  first 
who  gave  it  its  fixed  place  in  the  Israelite  worship. 
There  is  no  room  for  it  in  the  Mosaic  ritual.^  Its 
absence  there  may  be  counted  as  a proof  of  the  an- 
tiquity of  that  ritual  in  all  its  substantial  features.  For 
so  mighty  an  innovation  no  less  than  a David  was 
needed.  That  strange  musical  world  of  the  East, — 
with  its  gongs,  and  horns,  and  pipes,  and  harps  — with 
its  wild  dances  and  wilder  contortions  ^ — with  its  sono;s 
of  question  and  answer,  of  strophe  and  antistrophe, 
awakening  or  soothing,  to  a degree  inconceivable  in  our 
tamer  West,  the  emotions  of  the  hearer,  were  seized  by 
the  shepherd  minstrel,  when  he  mounted  the  throne, 
and  were  formed  as  his  own  peculiar  province  into  a 
great  ecclesiastical  institution.  The  exquisite  richness 
of  verse  and  music  so  dear  to  him^ — ‘^^the  calves  of  the 
lips  ” — took  the  place  of  the  costly  offerings  of  animals. 
His  harp  — or  as  it  was  called  by  the  Greek  translators, 
his  Psaltery,”  or  Psalter,”^  or  guitar  — was  to  him 

XV.  5 (comp.  Joseph.  Ant.  vii.  7,  § 3),  3 Hosea,  xlv.  2.  Herder,  Geist 

can  only  be  taken  as  an  indication  of  Ebr.  Poes,  xxxiv.  340.  Compare  Ps. 
the  inferior  morality  of  the  Old  Testa-  1.  14,  23. 

ment  to  that  of  the  New.  ^ The  name  of  “ the  Psalter,”  as 

1 Ewald,  i.  511.  the  title  of  the  book,  is  derived  from 

* Two  separate  dances  are  indi-  the  Alexandrine  MS.  of  the  LXX.  — 
cated  in  2 Sam.  vi  16.  (See  Ewald,  ypakTbpiov  fief  “ The  Harp  with 

iii.  79.)  Songs.” 


160 


THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXV 


what  the  wonder-working  staff  was  to  Moses,  the  speai 
to  Joshua,  or  the  sword  to  Gideon.  It  was  with  him  in 
his  early  youth.  It  was  at  hand  in  the  most  moving 
escapes  of  his  middle  life.  In  his  last  words,  he  seemed 
to  be  himself  the  instrument  over  which  the  Divine 
breath  passed.^  Singing  men  and  singing  women  were 
recognized  accompaniments  of  his  court.^  He  was  the 
inventor  of  musical  instruments.”  ^ With  his  whole 
heart  he  sung  songs,  and  loved  Him  that  made  him.”  ^ 
United  with  these  poetic  powers  was  a grace  so  nearly 
akin  to  the  Prophetic  gift,  that  he  has  received  the  rank 
of  a Prophet,®  though  not  actually  trained  or  called  to 
the  office.  Although,  when  he  wished  for  Prophetical 
instructions,  he  applied  to  others,  yet  his  own  utterances 
are  distinctly  acknowledged  as  Prophetic.®  The  Proph- 
ets themselves  recognize  his  superior  insight.'^  Even 
amongst  the  most  gifted  of  his  people  he  was  regarded 
as  an  angel  of  God,  in  his  power  of  enduring  to  hear 
the  claims  alike  of  good  and  evil,  in  his  knowledge  of 
the  universe,  in  the  directness  of  his  judgments,  which, 
once  spoken,  could  never  be  distorted  to  the  right  hand 
or  ® the  left.  By  these  gifts  he  became  in  his  life,  and 
still  more  in  his  writings,  a Prophet,  a Revealer  of  a 
new  world  of  religious  truth,  only  inferior,  if  inferior, 
to  Moses  himself 

1 2 Sam.  xxlii.  2.  There  is  a le-  Friend,”  and  Mohammed  “ the  Apos- 
gend  wliich  represents  the  harp  as  tie.” 

hu;,ig  over  his  bed,  and  sounding  at  ® 2 Sam.  xxiii.  1,  2 ; Ps.  iv.  3,  4 ; 
midnight  wlum  tlie  north  wind  passed  xxxii.  8,  9. 

over  it  (Harp  in  Diet.  Bible).  2 Sam.  xli.  1 (Vulg.)  ; xxiv.  13, 

2 Sam.  xix.  35.  14  ; 1 Kings  1.  27. 

3 Amos  vi  3.  9 Sec  the  remarkable  description  of 

‘1  Ecclus.  xlvii.  8;  2 Sam.  xxlii.  1.  David’s  “wisdom”  in  2 Sam.  xiv.  17, 
5 Acts  il.  30.  The  Mussulman  tra-  19,  20  (with  the  comments  of  Ewald 

rlitions  make  him  especially  “ the  and  Thenlus)  ; comp,  also  2 Sam.  xix 
prophet  of  Hod,”  as  Abraham  is  “ the  27. 


Lkct.  XXV. 


ITS  ORIGIN. 


161 


The  Psalter,  thus  inaugurated,  opened  a new  door 
into  the  side  of  sacred  literature.  Hymn  after  hymn 
was  added,  altered,  accommodated,  according  to  the 
needs  of  the  time.  And  not  only  so,  but  under  the 
shelter  of  this  irregular  accretion  of  hymns  of  all  ages 
and  all  occasions,  other  books  which  had  no  claim  to  be 
considered  either  of  the  Law  or  of  the  Prophets,  forced 
an  entrance,  and  were  classed  under  the  common  title 
of  the  Psalms,”  — though  including  books  .as  unlike  to 
each  other  and  to  the  Psalter,  as  Ruth  and  Ecclesiastes, 
Chronicles  and  Daniel.  But,  even  without  reckoning 
these  accompaniments,  the  Book  of  Psalms  is,  as  it 
were,^  a little  Bible  in  itself  It  is  a Bible  within  a 
Bible ; in  which  most  of  the  peculiarities,  inward  and 
outward,  of  the  rest  of  the  sacred  volume  are  concen- 
trated. It  has  its  five  separate  books  ^ like  the  Penta- 
teuch. It  invites  inquiry  into  the  authorship  of  its 

various  parts.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  popular  belief 
that  the  Psalter  of  David  ” was  entirely  composed  by 
David®  himself,  has  given  way  before  the  critical  research 
which  long  ago  detected  the  vast  diversity  of  author- 
ship existing  throughout  the  collection.  As,  on  the  one 
hand,  we  gratefully  acknowledge  the  single  impulse 
which  brought  the  book  into  existence,  we  recognize, 
on  the  other  hand,  no  less  the  many  illustrious  poets 
whose  works  underneath  that  single  name  have  come 
down  to  us,  unknown,  yet  hardly  less  truly  the  offspring 
of  David’s  mind,  than  had  they  sprung  directly  from 

1 “ The  Psalms  ” are  regarded  in  3 So  Augustine  and  Chrysostom ; 

the  Koran  (iv.  161)  as  the  fourth  just  as,  for  a similiar  reason,  the  whole 
sacred  book,  — the  Pentateuch,  the  Pentateuch  has  been  at  times  ascribed 
Gospels,  and  the  Koran  being  the  to  Moses,  the  whole  of  the  Books  of 
other  three.  S.amuel  to  Samuel,  the  whole  of  the 

2 See  Perowne,  The  Booh  of  Book  of  Joshua  to  Joshua,  or  the 

Psalms,  Introd.  p.  bcxxi.  whole  of  the  Book  of  Isaiah  to  Isaiah. 

VOL.  II. 


11 


162 


THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXV. 


himself.  The  evident  accommodation  ^ of  many  of  the 
Psalms  to  the  various  events  through  which  the  nation 
passed,  whilst  it  shows  the  freedom  with  which  these 
sacred  poems  were  handled  by  successive  editors,  adds 
to  their  interest  by  intertwining  them  more  closely  with 
the  national  history.  The  poetry  which  they  contain  is 
not  Epical,  but  Lyrical.  Epic  poetry  was  denied  to  the 
Semitic,  and  reserved  for  the  Indo-Germanic,^  races. 
But  this  defect  is  to  a great  extent  supplied  by  the  ivy- 
like tenacity  with  which  the  growth  of  the  Hebrew 
Lyrics  winds  itself  round  and  round  the  more  than 
.Epical  trunk  of  the  Hebrew  history. 

The  Psalter,  thus  freely  composed,  has  further  become 
Its  sacred-  Sacred  Book  of  the  world,  in  a sense  be- 

ness.  longing  to  no  other  part  of  the  Biblical  records. 
Not  only  does  it  hold  its  place  in  the  Liturgical  services 
of  the  Jewish  Church,  not  only  was  it  used  more  than 
any  other  part  of  the  Old  Testament  by  the  writers  of 
the  New,  but  it  is  in  a special  sense  the  peculiar  inheri- 
tance of  the  Christian  Church  through  all  its  different 
branches.  ^^From  whatever  point  of  view  any  Church 
Its  use  by  hath  Contemplated  the  scheme  of  its  doctrine. 
Churches,  a — whatever  name  they  have  thought  good 
‘Ho  designate  themselves,  and  however  bitterly  opposed 
“ to  each  other  in  church  government  or  observance  of 
’‘rites, — you  will  find  them  all,  by  harmonious  and  uni- 
“versal  consent,  adopting  the  Psalter  as  the  outward 
“ form  by  which  they  shall  express  the  inward  feelings 
“ of  the  Christian  life.”  ® It  was  so  in  the  earliest  times. 
The  Passover  Psalms  were  the  “ Hymn  ” ^ of  the  Last 

1 As  in  Psalms  II.  20,  21  ; ix.  1-7  ; 3 Irving’s  Introd.  to  the  Psalms^ 

Ixviii.  1,  12,  13,  14  ; and  cviii.  1-7.  pp.  5,  6. 

3 Ewald,  Dichter  des  A.  B.  p.  14.  4 Matt.  xxvi.  30 


Lkct.  XXV. 


ITS  SACREDNESS. 


163 


Supper.  In  the  first  ^ centuries  Psalms  'were  sung  at 
the  Love-feasts,  and  formed  the  morning  and  evening 
hymns  of  the  primitive  Christians.”  ^ “ Of  the  other 

“ Scriptures,”  says  Theodoret  in  the  fifth  century,  the 
generality  of  men  know  next  to  nothing.  But  the 
Psalms  you  will  find  again  and  again  repeated  in  pri- 
vate  houses,  in  market-places,  in  streets,  by  those  who 
"have  learned  them  by  heart,  and  who  soothe  them- 
" selves  by  their  Divine  melody.”  " When  other  parts 
" of  Scripture  are  used,”  says  St.  Ambrose,  " there  is  such 
" a noise  of  talking  in  the  church,  that  you  cannot  hear 
"what  is  said.  But  when  the  Psalter  is  read,  all  are 
" silent.”  They  were  sung  by  the  ploughmen  of  Pales- 
tine, in  the  time  of  J erome ; by  the  boatmen  of  Gaul, 
in  the  time  of  Sidonius  Apollinaris.  In  the  most  bar- 
barous of  churches,  the  Abyssinians  treat  the  Psalter 
almost  as  an  idol,  and  sing  it  through  from  end  to  end 
at  every  funeral.  In  the  most  Protestant  of  churches, — 
the  Presbyterians  of  Scotland,  the  Nonconformists  of 
England,  — " psalm-singing  ” has  almost  passed  into  a 
familiar  description  of  their  ritual.  In  the  Churches  of 
Rome  and  of  England,  they  are  daily  recited,  in  pro- 
portions such  as  far  exceed  the  reverence  shown  to  any 
other  portion  of  the  Scriptures. 

If  we  descend  from  Churches  to  individuals,  there  is 
no  one  book  which  has  played  so  large  a part  ^g^ 
in  the  history  of  so  many  human  souls.  By 
the  Psalms,  Augustine  was  consoled  on  his  conver- 
sion,® and  on  his  death-bed.  By  the  Psalms,  Chrysostom, 
Athanasius,  Savonarola,  were  cheered  in  persecution. 
With  the  words  of  a Psalm,  Polycarp,  Columba,  Ililde- 


i For  some  of  these  Instances,  see 
Perowne,  The  Book  of  Psalms,  la- 
trod.  f p.  xxxvi.  — xlix. 


Psalms  Ixiii.  and  cxli. 
3 Confessions,  ch.  9 


164 


THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXV. 


brand,  Bernard,  Francis  of  Assisi,  Huss,  Jerome  of  Prague, 
Columbus,  Henry  the  Fifth,  Edward  the  Sixth,  Ximenes, 
Xavier,  Melancthon,  Jewell,  breathed  their  last.  So 
dear  to  Wallace^  in  his  wanderings  was  his  Psalter,  that 
during  his  execution,  he  had  it  hung  before  him,  and  his 
eyes  remained  fixed  upon  it  as  the  one  consolation  of 
his  dying  hours.  The  unhappy  Darnley^  was  soothed 
in  the  toils  of  his  enemies  by  the  55th  Psalm.  The  68th 
Psalm  cheered  Cromwell’s  soldiers  to  victory  at  Dunbar.^ 
Locke  ^ in  his  last  days  bade  his  friend  read  the  Psalms 
aloud,  and  it  was  whilst  in  rapt  attention  to  their 
words  that  the  stroke  of  death  fell  upon  him.  Lord 
Burleigh^  selected  them  out  of  the  whole  Bible  as  his 
special  delight.  They  were  the  framework  of  the  de- 
votions and  of  the  war-cries  of  Luther ; they  were  the 
last  words  that  fell  on  the  ear  of  his  imperial  enemy 
Charles  the  Fifth.® 

Whence  has  arisen  this  universal  influence  ? What 
lessons  can  we  draw  from  this  natural  selection  ” of  a 
book  of  such  character  ? 

First,  something  is  owing  to  its  outward  poetical  form, 
and  it  is  a matter  of  no  small  importance  that  this 
homage  should  have  been  thus  extorted. 

There  has  always  been  in  certain  minds  a repug- 
Its  poetical  nance  to  poetry,  as  inconsistent  with  the  grav- 
character.  religious  feeling.  It  has  been  sometimes 

thought  that  to  speak  of  a Book  of  the  Bible  as  poet- 
ical,” is  a disparagement  of  it.  It  has  been  in  many 
Churches  thought  that  the  more  scholastic,  dry,  and 
prosaic  the  forms  in  which  religious  doctrine  is  thrown, 

1 Tytler’s  Scottish  Worthies,  i.  280.  ^ Strype’s  Parker,  ii.  214. 

2 Froude’s  England,  vili.  .369.  ^ Stirling,  Cloister-life  of  Charles 

3 Carlyle’s  Cromwell,  ii.  40.  the  Fifth,  242. 

4 Locke’s  Life,  i.  p.  xxxix. 


Lect.  XXV. 


ITS  DIVERSITY. 


165 


the  more  faithfully  is  its  substance  represented.  Of  aU 
human  compositions,  the  most  removed  from  poetry  are 
the  Decrees  and  Articles  of  Faith,  in  which  the  belief 
of  Christendom  has  often  been  enshrined  as  in  a sanc- 
tuary. To  such  sentiments  the  towering  greatness  of 
David,  the  acknowledged  preeminence  of  the  Psalter, 
are  constant  rebukes.  David,  beyond  king,  soldier,  or 
prophet,  was  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel.  Had  Raphael 
painted  a picture  of  Plebrew  as  of  European  Poetry, 
David  would  have  sate  aloft  at  the  summit  of  the 
Hebrew  Parnassus,  the  Homer  of  Jewish  song.  His 
passionate,  impetuous,  wayward  character,  is  that  which 
in  all  ages  has  accompanied  the  highest  gifts  of  musical 
or  poetical  genius.  ^^The  rapid  stroke  as  of  alternate 
wings,”  the  heaving  and  sinking  as  of  the  troubled 
heart,”  ^ which  have  been  beautifully  described  as  the 
essence  of  the  parallel  structure  of  Hebrew  verses,  are 
exactly  suited  for  the  endless  play  of  human  feeling, 
and  for  the  understanding  of  every  age  and  nation. 
The  Psalms  are  beyond  question  poetical  from  first  to 
last,  and  he  will  be  a bold  man  who  shall  say  that  a 
book  is  less  inspired,  or  less  true,  or  less  orthodox,  or 
less  divine,  because  it  is  like  the  Psalms.  The  Prophet, 
in  order  to  take  root  in  the  common  life  of  the  people, 
must  become  a Psalmist.^ 

Secondly,  the  effect  of  the  Psalter  is  owing  to  that 
diversity  of  character,  sentiment,  doctrine,  au- 
thorship,  which  we  reluctantly  acknowledge 
in  other  parts  of  the  Bible,  and  in  other  parts  of  our 
Christian  worship,  but  which  we  willingly  recognize  in 
the  Psalms.  In  them  is  exemplified  to  the  full  that 
extraordinary  complexity  and  variety  of  character  and 
of  history  which  we  have  noticed  in  David  himself 

1 Ewald,  DicJiter  des  A.  B.  p.  58.  2 See  Ibid.  pp.  7-9. 


166 


THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVID. 


Legt.  XXV. 


His  harp  was  full-stringed,  and  every  angel  of  joy  and  of  sorrow 
swept  over  the  chords  as  he  passed.  For  the  hearts  of  a hundred  men 
strove  and  struggled  together  within  the  narrow  continent  of  his  single 
heart ; and  will  the  scornful  men  have  no  sympathy  for  one  so  con- 
ditioned, but  scorn  him,  because  he  ruled  not  with  constant  quietness 
the  unruly  host  of  divers  natures  v/hich  dwelt  within  liis  single  soul  ? 
With  the  defence  of  his  backslidings,  which  he  hath  himself  more 
keenly  scrutinized,  more  clearly  decerned  against,  and  more  bitterly 
lamented  than  any  of  his  censors,  we  do  not  charge  ourselves,  because 
they  were,  in  a manner,  necessary,  that  he  might  be  the  full-orbed 
man  which  was  needed  to  utter  every  form  of  spiritual  feeling.  The 
Lord  did  not  intend  that  His  Church  should  be  without  a rule  for  utter- 
ing its  gladness  and  its  glory,  its  lamentation  and  its  grief ; and  to  bring 
such  a rule  and  institute  into  being.  He  raised  up  His  servant,  David,  as 
formerly  He  raised  up  Moses  to  give  to  the  Church  an  institute  of  Law ; 
and  to  that  end  He  led  him  the  round  of  all  human  conditions,  that  he 
might  catch  the  spirit  proper  to  every  one,  and  utter  it  according  to 
truth.  He  allowed  him  not  to  curtail  his  being  by  treading  the  roirad 
of  one  function  ; but  by  every  variety  of  function  He  cultivated  his 
whole  being,  and  filled  his  soul  with  wisdom  and  feeling.  He  found 
him  objects  for  every  affection,  that  the  affection  might  not  slumber  and 
die.  He  brought  him  up  in  the  sheep-pastures,  that  the  groundwork  of 
his  character  might  be  laid  amongst  the  simple  and  universal  forms  of 
feeling.  He  took  him  to  the  camp,  and  inade  him  a conqueror,  that  he 
might  be  filled  with  nobleness  of  soul  and  ideas  of  glory.  He  placed 
him  in  the  palace,  that  he  might  be  filled  with  ideas  of  majesty  and 
sovereign  might.  He  carried  him  to  the  wilderness,  and  placed  him  in 
solitudes,  that  his  soul  might  dwell  alone  in  the  sublime  conceptions  of 
God  and  His  mighty  works ; and  He  kept  him  there  for  long  years, 
with  only  one  step  between  him  and  death,  that  he  might  be  well 
schooled  to  trust  and  depend  upon  the  providence  of  God.^ 

David  struck  the  keys  of  these  hundred  notes  at 
once,  and  they  have  been  reverberated  yet  more  and 
more  widely  through  the  hundred  authors  whose  voices 
he  awakened  after  him.  Solomon,^  Ilezekiah,®  Asaph, 
Heman,  and  Ethan, with  all  tlieir  followers ; the  exiled 

1 Irving’s /n^rcri.  Essay  to  Horne's  ^ Isaiali  xxxviil.  9 ; Ps.  xlvlii.,  Ixxvi. 

Commentary  on  the  Psalms,  p.  32.  Ps.  Ixxiii.  — Ixxxlii.,  Ixxxviii., 

8 Ps.  li.,  IxxiL  Ixxxix. 


Lbct.  XXV. 


ITS  DIVERSITY. 


167 


mourners  by  the  waters  of  Babylon;^  the  latest^  of  the 
Prophets;  possibly  the  unknown  minstrels^  who  cheered 
the  armies  of  the  Maccabees,  — every  one  of  these,  with 
King  David  at  their  head,  in  their  various  moods  of 
thankfulness,  sorrow,  despair,  hope,  rage,  love,  mercy, 
vengeance,  doubt,  faith,  — every  one  of  these,  through 
their  different  trials,  of  wanderings,  escapes,  captivity, 
banishment,  bereavement,  persecutions,  in  their  quiet 
contemplation  of  nature,^  in  the  excitement^  of  the  bat- 
tle-field, in  the  splendor  of  great  coronations,®  in  the  so- 
lemnity of  mighty  funerals,’' — from  each  of  these  sources 
each  has  contributed  to  the  charm  which  the  Psalter  pos- 
sesses for  the  whole  race  of  mankind.  When  Christian 
martyrs®  and  Scottish  covenanters^  in  dens  and  caves  of 
the  earth,  when  French  exiles^®  and  English  fugitives 
in  their  hiding-places  during  the  panic  of  revolution  or 
of  mutiny,  received  a special  comfort  from  the  Psalms, 
it  was  because  they  found  themselves  literally  side  by 
side  with  the  author  in  the  cavern  of  Adullam,  or  on 
the  cliffs  of  Engedi,  or  beyond  the  Jordan,  escaping 
from  Saul  or  from  Absalom,  from  the  Philistines  or  from 


^ Ps.  cxxxvii. 

2 Ps.  cxlvii.  — cl. 

3 Ps.  xliv.,  placed  by  Calvin,  De 
Wette,  Perowne,  under  the  Macca- 
bees. See  1 Macc.  iv.  24. 

4 Ps.  viii.,  xxix.,  civ. 

5 Ps.  XX.,  lx.,  cx. 

6 Ps.  xxi.,  xlv. 

7 Ps.  xlix.,  xc. 

8 The  figure  of  Ps.  xlii.  1,  often 
repeated  in  the  Roman  Catacombs. 

9 Sir  Patrick  Hume,  when,  hid  in 
the  sepulchral  vault,  “ he  had  no  light 
to  read  by,  having  committed  to 
memory  Bucthanan’s  Version  of  the 
Psalms,  beguiled  the  weary  hours  of 


his  confinement  by  repealing  them  to 
himself,  and,  to  his  dying  day,  he 
could  repeat  every  one  without  miss- 
ing a word,  and  said  they  had  been 
the  great  comfort  of  his  life  by  night 
and  day  on  all  occasions.”  — Life  of 
Sir  P.  Hume  hy  his  Daughter^  p.  38. 

10  So  I have  been  told  by  those  who 
fled  in  the  Revolution  of  1848. 

11  “ There  is  not  a day  in  which  we 
do  not  find  something  in  the  Psalms 
that  appears  written  especially  for  our 
unhappy  circumstances,  to  meet  the 
wants  and  feelings  of  the  day.”  — 
Edwards’s  Personal  Narrative  of  the 
Indian  Mutiny,  145,  165. 


168  ^ the  psalter  of  DAVID.  Lect.  XXV 

the  Ass3Trians.  When  Burleigh  or  Locke  seemed  to  find 
an  echo  in  the  Psalms  to  their  own  calm  philosophy,  it 
was  because  they  were  listening  to  the  strains  which 
had  proceeded  from  the  mouth  or  charmed  the  ear  of 
the  sagacious  King  or  the  thoughtful  statesman  of 
Judah.  It  has  been  often  observed  that  the  older  we 
grow,  the  more  interest  the  Psalms  possess  for  us,  as 
individuals  ; and  it  may  almost  be  said  that  by  these 
multiplied  associations,  the  older  the  human  race  grows, 
the  more  interest  do  they  possess  for  mankind.  Truly 
has  this  characteristic  been  caught  by  our  own  Hooker^ 
with  a critical  sagacity  beyond  his  age,  as  the  vindica- 
tion of  their  constant  use  in  Christian  churches. 

^^What  is  there  necessary  for  man  to  know,”  he  asks, 
which  the  Psalms  are  not  able  to  teach  ? The3^  are  to 
beginners  an  easy  and  familiar  introduction — a mighty 
^ augmentation  of  all  virtue  and  knowledge  in  such  as 
" are  matured  before  — a strong  confirmation  to  the  most 
perfect  amongs  others.  Heroical  magnanimity,  ex- 
quisite  justice,  grave  moderation,  exact  wisdom,  repent- 
“ance  unfeigned,  unwearied  patience,  the  mysteries  of 
God,  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  the  terrors  of  wrath,  the 
comforts  of  grace,  the  works  of  Providence  over  this 
"world,  and  the  promised  joys  of  the  world  to  come, 
" all  good  to  be  either  known,  or  done,  or  had,  this  one 
" celestial  fountain  yieldeth.  Let  there  be  any  grief  or 
"disease  incident  unto  the  soul  of  man,  any  wound  or 
" sickness  named,  for  which  there  is  not  in  this  treasure- 
" house  a present  comfortable  remedy  at  all  times  ready 
" to  be  found.” 

Truly  has  the  same  sentiment  been  echoed  by  another 
writer,  hardly  less  eloquent,  of  another  Church  and 
nation : — 


Eccles.  Polity^  V.  xxxvii.  2. 


Leot  XXV. 


ITS  DEFECTS. 


169 


^ He  only  wlio  knows  the  number  of  the  waves  of 
“ the  ocean,  and  the  abundance  of  tears  in  the  human 
eye,  He  who  sees  the  sighs  of  the  heart,  before  they 
are  uttered,  and  who  hears  them  still,  when  they  are 
^‘hushed  into  silence  — He  alone  can  tell  how  many 
"holy  emotions,  how  many  heavenly  vibrations,  have 
" been  produced  and  will  ever  be  produced  in  the  souls 
" of  men  by  the  reverberation  of  these  marvellous 
" strains,  of  these  predestinated  hymns,  read,  medi- 
" tated,  sung,  in  every  hour  of  day  and  night,  in  every 
"winding  of  the  vale  of  tears.  The  Psalter  of  David 
" is  like  a mystic  harp,  hung  on  the  walls  of  the  true 
" Zion.  Under  the  breath  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  it  sends 
"forth  its  infinite  varieties  of  devotion,  which,  rolling 
" on  from  echo  to  echo,  from  soul  to  soul,  awakes  in  each 
" a separate  note,  mingling  in  that  one  prolonged  voice 
" of  thankfulness  and  penitence,  praise  and  prayer.”  ^ 
Well  said  by  Protestant  divine  : well  said  by  Catholic 
prelate  : but  how  powerful  a witness,  if  only  it  could  be 
consistently  borne,  to  a toleration,  a universal  sympar 
thy  such  as,  outside  this  charmed  circle,  Protestant  and 
Catholic  have  alike  been  unwilling  to  endure,  still  more 
unwilling  to  hail  as  one  of  the  first  privileges  of  the 
religious  man. 

Yet  further,  if  from  amongst  these  multifarious  notes 
we  select  those  which  are  peculiar  to  the  Psalter,  we 
shall  find  still  deeper  causes  for  its  long  preeminence, 
for  the  importance  justly  assigned  to  David,  as  a second 
Moses.  ^ The  sentiments  which  it  contains  are  of  the 
most  various  and  unequal  kind.  It  can  plead 

Its 

no  exemption  from  the  defects  of  the  Jewish 

1 Dogme  de  la  Penitence^  243;  by  2 Comp.  p.  74,  87,  146. 

Gerbet,  the  late  Archbishop  of  Per- 
pignan. 


170 


THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXV. 


system.  Not  even  in  the  wars  of  Joshua  or  the  song 
of  Deborah/  does  the  vindictive  spirit  of  the  ancient 
dispensation  burn  more  fiercely  than  in  the  impreca- 
tions of  the  69th,  109th,  and  137th  Psalms.  When 
Clovis  fed  his  savage  spirit  from  the  18th  Psalm,  ^ it  was, 
we  must  confess,  because  he  found  there  the  sparks  of  a 
kindred  soul.  Hardly,  in  the  silence  of  the  Pentateuch, 
or  the  gloomy  despair^  of  Ecclesiastes,  is  the  faintness 
of  the  hope  of  immortality  more  chilling  than  in  the 
30th,  49  th,  and  88th  Psalms.  Many  of  its  excellences. 
Its  excel-  shared  with  other  portions.  Its  stern 

lences.  coiitempt  of  the  sacrificial  system,  its  exaltation 
of  the  moral  law  above  the  ceremonial,  are  Prophetic, 
even  more  than  Psalmodic.  Its  strains^  of  battle  and 
victory  are  not  equal  to  the  rude  energy  of  the  ancient 
war-songs  of  the  Judges.  But  there  are  three  points 
in  which  the  Psalms  stand  unrivalled. 

The  first  is  the  depth  of  personal  expression  and 
Its  personal  experience.  There  are  doubtless  occasions 
experiences,  Psalmist  spcaks  as  the  organ  of  the 

nation.  But  he  is  for  the  most  part  alone  with  himself 
and  with  God.  Each  word  is  charged  with  the  inten- 
sity of  some  grief  or  joy,  known  or  unknown.  If  the 
doctrines  of  St.  Paul  derive  half  their  force  from  their 
connection  with  his  personal  struggles,  the  doctrines  of 
DavkP  also  strike  home  and  kindle  a fire  wherever  they 
light,  mainly  because  they  are  the  sparks  of  the  incan- 
descence of  a living  human  experience  like  our  own. 
The  Patriarchs  speak  as  the  Eathers  of  the  chosen  race ; 
the  Prophets  speak  as  its  representatives  and  its  guides. 
But  the  Psalmist  speaks  as  the  mouthpiece  of  the  indi- 

1 See  Lectures  XI.,  XIV.  ^ Herder,  Geist  der  Ehr.  Poa 

2 Ps.  xvili.  39,  40.  Gibbon,  cb.  38.  xxxiv.  301. 

^ See  Lectures  VII.,  XXVIII.  ^ Lecture  XXIV. 


Lect.  XXV. 


ITS  JOYOUSNESS. 


171 


vidual  soul,  of  the  free,  independent,  solitary  conscience 
of  man  everywhere. 

The  second  of  these  peculiarities  is,  what  we  may  call 
in  one  word,  the  perfect  naturalness  of  the  Psalms.  It 
appears,  perhaps,  most  forcibly,  in  their  exult-  its  joyous- 
ant  freedom  and  joyousness  of  heart.  It  is 
true,  as  Lord  Bacon  says,  that  if  you  listen  to  David’s 
harp,  you  will  hear  as  many  hearselike  airs  as  carols;” 
yet  still  the  carols  are  found  there  more  than  any- 
where else.  Rejoice  in  the  Lord.”  . . . ^^  Sing  ye 

« merrily.”  . . . Make  a cheerful  noise.”  . . . Take  the 
psalm,  bring  hither  the  tab  ret,  the  merry  harp,  with 
the  lute.”  . . . ^^  0 praise  the  Lord,  for  it  is  a good 
^Hhing  to  sing  praises  unto  our  God.”  . . . A joyful  and 
pleasant  thing  it  is  to  be  thankful.”  This  in  fact  is 
the  very  meaning  of  the  word  Psalm.”  _ The  one 
Hebrew  word  which  is  their  very  pith  and  marrow  is 
Hallelujah.”  They  express,  if  we  may  so  say,  the 
sacred  duty  of  being  happy.  Be  happy,  cheerful,  and 
thankful,  as  ever  we  can,  we  cannot  go  beyond  the 
Psalms.  They  laugh,  they  shout,  they  cry,  they  scream 
for  joy.  There  is  a wild  exhilaration  which  rings 
through  them.  They  exult  alike  in  the  joy  of  battle, 
and  in  the  calm  of  nature.  They  see  God’s  goodness 
everywhere.  They  are  not  ashamed  to  confess  it.  The 
bright  side  of  creation  is  everywhere  uppermost ; the 
dark,  sentimental  side  is  hardly  ever  seen.  The  fury 
of  the  thunder-storm,  the  roaring  of  the  sea,  are  to 
them  full  of  magnificence  and  delight.^  Like  the  Scotr 
tish  poet^  in  his  childhood,  at  each  successive  peal  they 
clap  their  hands  in  innocent  pleasure.  The  affection 
for  birds,  and  beasts,  and  plants,  and  sun,  and  moon, 

1 Ps.  xxix.,  xciii.  (see  Keble’s  trans-  Life  of  Sir  Walter  Scoft,  i.  83. 
ation),  civ.  Lyra  Innocentium,  ix.  13. 


172 


THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXV 


and  stars,  is  like  that  which  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  claimed 
for  all  these  fellow-creatures  of  God,  as  his  brothers  and 
sisters.  There  have  been  those  for  whom,  on  this  very 
account,  in  moments  of  weakness  and  depression,  the 
Psalms  have  been  too  much : yet  not  the  less  is  this  vein 
of  sacred  merriment  valuable  in  the  universal  mission 
of  the  Chosen  People.  And  the  more  so,  because  it 
grows  out  of  another  feeling  in  the  Psalms,  which  has 
also  jarred  strangely  on  the  minds  of  devout  but  narrow 
schools,  “ the  free  and  princely  heart  of  inno- 
ita  freedom.  (.gjjgg  ” -which  to  modem  religion  has  often 

seemed  to  savor  of  self-righteousness  and  want  of 
proper  humility.  The  Psalmist’s  bounding,  buoyant 
hope,'  his  fearless  claim  to  be  rewarded  according  to 
his  2 righteous  dealing,  his  confidence  in  his  own 
integrity,*  no  less  than  his  agony  over  his  own  crimes, 
his  passionate  delight'  in  the  Law,  not  as  a cruel  enemy, 
but  as  the  best  of  guides,  sweeter  than  honey  and  the 
honeycomb,  — these  are  not  according  to  the  require- 
ments of  Calvin  or  even  of  Pascal : they  are  from  a 
wholly  different  point  of  the  celestial  compass  than  that 
which  inspired  the  Epistles  to  the  Komans  and  Gala- 
tians. But  they  have  not  the  less  a truth  of  their  oivn, 
a truth  to  Nature,  a truth  to  God,  which  the  human 
lieart  will  always  recognize.  The  frank  unrestrained 
benediction  on  the  upright  honest  man,  “ the  noblest 
“ work  of  God,”  with  which  the  Psalter  opens,  is  but  the 
fitting  prelude  to  the  boundless  generosity  and  prod- 
i(mlity  of  joy  with  which  in  its  close  it  calls  on  “ every 
“creature  that  breathes,”  without  stint  or  exception,  to 

* Ps.  xix.,  8-11;  cxix.  (through 
out). 


1 Ps.  xvi.  9. 

2 Ps.  xviii.  21-2G. 

2 Ps.  XXV.  2,  21  ; xxvi.  1-6,  11. 


Leot.  XXV. 


ITS  SPIRITUAL  LIFE. 


173 


‘‘  praise  the  Lord.”  ^ It  may  be  that  such  expressions  as 
these  owe  iheir  first  impulse  in  part  to  the  new  epoch 
of  national  prosperity  and  individual  energy,  ushered 
in  by  David’s  reign ; but  they  have  swept  the  mind  of 
the  Jewish  nation  onward  towards  that  mighty  destiny 
which  awaited  it ; and  they  have  served,  though  at  a 
retarded  speed,  to  sweep  on,  ever  since,  the  whole  spirit 
of  humanity  in  its  upward  course.  The  burning 
stream  has  flowed  on  after  the  furnace  itself  has  cooled.” 
As  of  the  classic  writers  of  Greece  it  has  been  well  said^ 
that  they  possess  a charm  quite  independent  of  their 
genius,  in  the  radiance  of  their  brilliant  and  youthful 
beauty,  so  it  may  be  said  of  the  Psalms  that  they  pos- 
sess a like  charm,  independent  even  of  their  depth  of 
feehng  or  loftiness  of  doctrine.  In  their  free  and  gener- 
ous grace  the  youthful,  glorious  David  seems  to  live 
over  again  with  a renewed  vigor.  our  fresh 

springs”^  are  in  him,  and  in  his  Psalter. 

These  various  peculiarities  of  the  Psalms  lead  us, 
partly  by  way  of  contrast,  partly  by  a close  1,3  spiritual 
though  hidden  connection,  to  their  main  char- 
acteristic,  which  appears  nowhere  else  in  the  Bible  with 
equal  force,  unless  it  be  in  the  Life  and  Words  of  Christ 
Himself  The  ^^^eason  why  the  Psalms  have  found 
such  constant  favor  in  every  portion  of  the  Christian 
Church,  while  forms  of  doctrine  and  discourse  have 
undergone  such  manifold  changes  in  order  to  represent 
the  changing  spirit  of  the  age,  is  this,  that  they  address 
themselves  to  the  simple  intuitive  feelings  of  the  re- 
“newed  soul.”  They  represent  ^Hhe  freshness  of  the 

1 Ps.  i.  13, -cl.  6.  I owe  this  re-  2 Ur.  Temple,  “Education  of  the 
mark  to  a venerable  friend,  than  World,”  Essays  and  Reviews^  p.  27. 
whom  no  one  could  speak  on  such  a ® Ps.  Ixxxvii.  7. 
matter  with  more  authority. 


THE  PSALTEK  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXV 


IM 


“ soul’s  infancy,  the  love  of  the  soul’s  childhood and, 
“therefore,  are  to  the  Christian  what  the  love  of  parents, 

“ the  sweet  affections  of  home,  and  the  clinging  memory 
“ of  infant  scenes,  are  to  men  in  general.”  ‘ “ 0 God, 

“ Thou  art  my  God,  early  will  I seek  Thee.”  “ My  soul 
“ waited  for  Thee  before  the  morning  watch.”  It  is  in 
the  depth,  the  freshness  of  this  spiritual  life  that  we 
find  the  first  distinct  trace  of  a higher  and  more  uni- 
versal law  ^ than  that  of  Moses  — of  a better  and  more 
eternal  life,®  than  that  which  alone  the  Mosaic  system 
revealed  to  man.  “ God  is  not  a God  of  the  dead,  but 
“ of  the  living,”  was  a truth  which,  however  necessarily 
involved  in  the  Pentateuch,  needed  the  harp  of  David 
to  call  it  into  a practical  existence. 

I have  given  the  other  glories  of  the  Psalms  from 
writers  of  widely  different  Christian  communions.  May 
I venture,  in  speaking  of  this  crowning  glory,  — of  this 
insight  which  the  Psalter  gives  into  the  union  of  the 
Human  Soul  with  its  Divine  Friend  and  Creator,  to 
use  the  words  of  one,‘  who  perchance  may  be  thought 
to  have  excluded  himself  from  all  these,  but  who  has 
nevertheless  described  the  phenomena  of  spiritual  life 
with  a force  which  few  within  that  pale  have  equalled, 
and  who  has  precisely  caught  that  aspect  of  it  which 

the  Psalms  most  faithfully  represent  ? _ 

“ He  who  begins  to  realize  God’s  majestic  beauty  anu 
« eternity,  and  feels  in  contrast  how  little  and  how  tran- 
“sitory  man  is,  how  dependent  and  feeble,  longs  to  lean 
« upon  God  for  support.  ...  For  where  rather  shoidd 
“the  weak  rest  than  on  the  strong,  the  creature  of  a 


1 Irving’s  Inlroduction  to  the 
P.s’rt/m,?,  p.  7. 

2 Ps  xlx.,  (;xlx. 

3 Ps.  xvi.  11  ; xvll.  15;  Ixxili.  26. 


S(>e  Herder,  Geist  der  Ehr.  Poesie, 
pp.  214-219. 

4  F.  Newman,  Thi  Soul,  y>p.  191, 
104,  120. 


LttCT.  XXV.  ITS  SPIRITUAL  LIFE.  \*7i\ 

“-day  than  on  the  Eternal,  the  imperfect  than  on  the 
'^centre  of  Perfection?  And  where  else  should  God 
“ dwell  than  in  the  human  heart  ? — for  if  God  is  in  the 
universe,  among  things  inanimate  and  without  con 
science,  how  much  more  ought  He  to  dwell  with  oui* 
souls ; and  our  souls,  too,  seem  to  be  infinite  in  their 
cravings : who  but  He  can  satisfy  them  ? Thus  a 
restless  instinct  agitates  the  soul,  guiding  it  dimly  to 
feel  that  it  was  made  for  some  definite  but  unknown 
relation  towards  God.  The  sense  of  emptiness  im 
creases  to  positive  uneasiness,  until  there  is  an  inward 
yearning,  if  not  shaped  in  words,  yet  in  substance  not 
alien  from  that  ancient  strain,^  — ^ As  the  hart  panteth 
^ after  the  water-brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul  after  thee, 
^ 0 God : My  soul  is  athirst  for  God,  yea,  even  for  the 
Hiving  God.’  . . . Then  the  Soul  understands  and 
knows  that  God  is  her  God,  dwelling  with  her  more 
closely  than  any  creature  can ; yea,  neither  Stars,  nor 
^^Sea,  nor  smiling  Nature,  hold  God  so  intimately  as 
the  bosom  of  the  Soul.  He  becomes  the  soul  of  the 
“soul.  All  nature  is  ransacked  by  the  Psalmists  for 
“ metaphors  to  express  this  single  thought,  ^ God  is  for 
“ ^ my  soul,  and  my  soul  is  for  God.’  Father,  Brother, 
“ Friend,  King,  Master,  Shepherd,  Guide,  are  common 
titles.  God  is  their  Tower,  their  Glory,  their  Bock, 
“ their  Shield,  their  Sun,  their  Star,  their  Joy,  their  Por- 
“ tion,  their  Trust,  their  Life.  The  Psalmist  describes 
“ his  soul  as  God’s  only  and  favorite  child,^  His  darling 
“ one.  So  it  is  that  joy  bursts  out  into  praise,  and  all 
“ things  look  brilliant,  and  hardship  seems  easy,  and 
“ duty  becomes  delight,  and  contempt  is  not  felt,  and 
“ every  morsel  of  bread  is  sweet.  Tlie  whole  world 
“seems  fresh  to  him  with  sweetness  before  untasted 


1 Ps.  xlii.  1. 


Ps.  xxii.  20. 


176 


THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  aJLV. 


«0,  philosopher,  is  this  all  a dream?  Thou  canst  ex- 
“ plain  it  all  ? Thou  scornest  it  all  ? But  it  is  not  less 
“ a fact  of  human  nature  — and  of  some  age  too  — for 
“David  thirsted  after  God,  and  exceedingly  rejoiced 
“in  Him;  and  so  did  Paul,  and  so  have  hundreds 


And  may  we  add,  in  all  humility,  0 Christian,  who 
hearest  these  things  in  the  Psalms,  hast  thou  ever  felt 
them,  or  felt  anything  like  them  ? Hast  thou,  with  the 
lio-ht’of  the  Gospel,  fallen  below  the  Hebrew  Psalmist? 
Canst  thou  enter  into  that  behef,  so  scanty,  so  undefined, 
yet  so  intense,  which  made  him  repose  in  unshaken 
faith  on  the  truth  and  goodness  of  God  ? Canst  thou 
believe  that  those  sacred  words  are  intended  to  nerve 
thy  heart  against  the  snares  of  sin,  the  love  of  popu- 
larity, the  respect  of  persons,  the  want  of  faith  in  Truth, 
the  pressure  of  sorrow,  and  sickness,  and  death? 
“ Whom  have  I in  heaven  but  thee  ? and  there  is  none 
“ upon  earth  that  I desire  in  comparison  of  thee.  My 
“ flesh  and  my  heart  faileth : but  God  is  the  strength 
“of  my  heart,  and  my  portion  for  ever.”^  “Put  thou 
“thy  trust  in  the  Lord,  and  be  doing  good;  leave  oflf 
“from  wrath,  and  let  go  displeasure,  else  shalt  thou  be 
“moved  to  do  evil.”  “ Commit  thy  way  unto  the  Lord, 
“ and  put  thy  trust  in  Him.”  “ He  shaU  make  thy  right- 
“eousness  as  clear  as  the  light,  and  thy  just  dealing  as 
“the  noonday.”  “The  Lord  ordereth  a gooa  mans 
“ going.  Though  he  fall  he  shall  not  be  cast  away,  for 
“ the  Lord  upholdeth  him  with  His  hand.”  * 


Thus  far  the  causes  of  the  sacredness  of  the  Psalter 
are  such  as  all  might  recognize,  Jew,  and  we  may  alinost 
add  Pagan,  as  well  as  Christian.  But  as  we  contemplate 


Lect.  XXV. 


ITS  MESSIANIC  HOPES. 


177 


David  in  himself  and  as  the  inangurator  of  this  new 
revelation  to  man,  a further  question  has  risen.  itsMessi- 
The  glory  of  David  carried  with  it  a pledge  of 
the  continuance  of  his  dynasty  to  the  remotest  ages  of 
which  Jewish  imagination  could  conceive.  This  fixed 
belief  in  the  eternity  of  the  House  of  David,  of  which 
the  Psalms  are  the  earliest  and  the  most  constant  ex- 
pression, has  had  its  faint  counterpart  in  those  yearn- 
ings which  in  other  countries  have  suggested  the  return 
of  the  beloved  sovereign  himself,  — Arthur  of  Britain, 
Henry  of  Portugal,  Frederick  Barbarossa  of  Germany. 
But  the  Jewish  belief  had  a far  deeper  basis.  When 
the  decline  of  David’s  royal  race  appeared  to  extinguish 
the  hopes  that  were  bound  up  with  it,  instead  of  vanish- 
ing away,  like  those  popular  fancies  just  mentioned,  the 
expectation  of  the  Jewish  Church  sprang  up  in  a new 
form,  and  with  increased  vitality.  It  fastened,  not  as 
before  ^ on  the  ruined  and  exiled  dynasty,  nor  yet,  as 
occasionally,  on  the  actual  person  ^ of  David,  but  on  the 
coming  of  One  who  should  be  a Son  of  David,  and  re- 
store the  shattered  throne,  and  build ' up  again  ^ the 
original  tent  or  hut  which  David  had  pitched  on  his  first 
entrance  into  Jerusalem.  This  expectation  of  a Son 

of  David  ” who  should  revive  the  fallen  splendor  of  his 
father’s  house,  blended  with  the  general  hope  of  restora- 
tion peculiar  to  the  Jewish  race,  reached  the  highest 
pitch  a thousand  years  after  David’s  death.  Suddenly 
there  came  One,  to  whom,  though  He  did  not  desire  the 
name  for  Himself,  it  was  given  freely  by  others.  He  is 
repeatedly  called  the  Son  of  David.'^  Most  unlike,  in- 

* 2Sam.  vil.  19;  xxiii.  5.  xxix.  1,  Lam.  ii.  6,  Ps.  Ixxvi.  2, 

2 Ps.  Ixxxix.  20,49  ; cxxxii.  10,  17  ; Judith  ix.  8. 

Ezekiel  xxxvli.  24,  25.  4 Matt.  ix.  27  ; Mark  x.  47;  Luke 

3 Amosix.  11 ; Isaiah  xvi.  5.  Comp,  xviii.  38,  &c. 

VOL.  II.  12 


178 


THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVIP: 


Lect.  XXV 


deed,  to  that  fierce,  indulgent,  passionate  king,  that  way- 
ward, eager,  exuberant  poet,  most  unlike  to  many  of 
the  wild  imprecations  ^ in  the  Psalms  themselves,  yet  in 
those  peculiar  features  of  the  Psalmist,  of  which  we 
have  spoken,  so  like,  that  when  we  read  his  emo- 
tions, we  seem  to  be  reading  — and  the  Christian  Church 
from  the  earliest  times  has  delighted  to  read  — the 
emotions,  the  devotions,  the  life,  of  Christ  Himself 
That  natural,  unrestrained,  at  times  joyous  and  victori- 
ous spirit  which  animates  the  Psalter,  is  never  repro- 
duced in  any  other  religious  teacher,  inside  or  outside 
the  circle  of  the  Sacred  History,  except  in  Him  who 
came  eating  and  drinking,”  the  Bridegroom,  and  the 
Bridegroom’s  Guest,  the  Friend  of  the  childlike,  the 
simple,  the  genuine.  The  compassion  for  the  suffering 
nation ; the  generous  sympathy  Avith  the  oppressed  and 
the  outcast;  the  chivalrous  thoughtfulness  (contrasted, 
in  David’s  case,  with  the  cruel  craft  that  occasionally 
disfigures  his  character)  — meet  nowhere  else  in  Jewish 
history  so  remarkably  as  in  the  hero  of  Adullam  and 
Engedi,  and  in  Him  who  Iwed  with  the  publicans  and 
sinners,  and  wept  over  Jerusalem,  and  forgave  His  en- 
emies. That  Avide  diversity  of  thought  and  situation 
Avhich  marked  the  career  of  David,  the  sudden  vicis- 
situdes from  obscurity  to  fame,  from  fame  to  ignominy, 
— that  rapid  passage  through  all  the  feelings  of  human- 
ity, which  we  trace  through  the  variegated  texture  of 
the  Psalter,  constitute,  in  no  scanty  measure,  the  frame- 
AAmrk  of  the  great  drama  of  the  Gospel  History.  And 
with  this  variety  of  outAvard  condition  is  combined  the 
inAvard  feeling  of  alxsolute  unity  of  the  soul  with  God, 
which  constitutes,  as  Ave  have  seen,  the  main  charac- 
teristic of  the  Religion  of  the  Psalter,  but  of  wliich  we 

1 Comp.  Baxter,  Parnp/irafte  of  the  Neto  Te'<taracnt,  p.  vi. 


Lect.  XXV 


ITS  MESSIANIC  CHARACTER. 


179 


have  the  perfect  expression  in  the  Mind  of  Christ.  We 
need  not  invoke  any  of  the  abstract  theological  state' 
ments  respecting  Him.  It  is  enough  to  take  the  most 
purely  historical  view  that  has  ever  been  expressed. 

God  speaks  not  to  Him,”  it  has  been  well  said  by  such 
a critic,  as  to  one  outside  of  Himself : God  is  in  Him. 

He  feels  Himself  with  God,  and  He  draws  from  His 
^^own  heart  what  He  tells  us  of  His  Father.  He  lives 

in  the  bosom  of  God  by  the  intercommunion  of  every 

moment.”  And  therefore  it  is  that,  when  in  the 
Psalms  of  David  we  are  carried  along  with  their  burn 
ing  words,  down  to  the  lowest  depths  of  grief,  and  up 
to  the  highest  heights  of  glory,  we  feel  all  the  while, 
that  through  those  words  we  are  one  ^ with  Christ,  and 
He  is  one  with  us : we  are  admitted  — not  by  any  fan- 
ciful straining  of  words,  or  by  any  doubtful  application 
of  minute  predictions,  but  by  the  real  likeness  of  spirit 
with  spirit — into  the  depths  of  that  communion,  wherein 
He  is  one  with  His  Father.  It  may  be  that  the  mag- 
nificent language  of  the  Psalte^  at  times  rises  into  mean- 
ings which  can  only  be  fully  understood  in  its  highest 
and  most  universal  application.  It  may  be  allowable, 
for  those  who  so  Avish,  to  merge  altogether  the  historical 
circumstances  of  the  book  in  its  moral  and  religious 
lessons.  But  the  fact  still  remains,  that  it  is  through 
the  likeness  of  situation  and  feeling,  and  through  this 
alone,  that  the  connection  of  the  words  of  the  original 
author  with  Christ,  and  Avith  the  Christian  Church,  has 
been  maintained  and  perpetuated.  The  Psalter  is  es- 
peciaJly  prophetic  of  Christ,  because,  more  than  any 
other  part  of  the  ancient  Scriptures,  it  enters  into  those 
truths  of  the  spiritual  life  of  Avhich  He  was  the  great 

1 This  true  j^rouiid  of  the  Messianic  out  in  Irving’s  Introduction  to  the 
idea  of  the  P'salter  is  well  brought  Psalms,  37,  38. 


180 


THE  PSALTER  OF  DAVID. 


Lect.  XXV 


Revealer.  David  and  his  fellow-Psalmists,  are  types, 
that  is,  likenesses,  of  Christ,  because  they,  more  than 
any  other  characters  of  the  Sacred  History,  share  in  the 
common  feelings  and  vicissitudes  of  hfe  and  death, 
failure  and  success,  through  which  He  and  they  and  we 
— ' but  He  in  the  highest  and  most  transcendent  of  all 
senses  — win  the  hope  which  is  in  those  Psalms  for  the 
first  tune  set  before  the  mind  of  man. 


SOLOMON. 


XXVI. 

THE 

EMPIRE 

OF 

SOLOMON. 

XXVII. 

THE 

TEMPLE 

OF 

SOLOMON. 

xxvm. 

THE 

WISDOM 

OF 

SOLOMON 

LECTURE  XXVI. 


SPECIAL  AUTHORITIES  FOR  THIS  PERIOD. 


L The  contemporary  accounts  contained  in 

1.  The  “ Book  of  the  Acts  ” (or  Words)  of  Solomon  (1  Kings  xi.  41) 

2.  The  “ Book”  (i.  e.  the  Words  or  Acts)  of  the  Prophet  Nathan  (2 
Chr.  ix.  29). 

3.  The  “ Prophecy  ” of  Ahljah  the  Shilonite  (ibid.). 

4.  The  “ Visions  ” of  Iddo  the  Seer  (ibid.). 

Of  these  some  materials  are  probably  preserved  in  the  accounts  of  the 
two  historical  books  of  the  Old  Testament  (1  Kings  i.  1 — xi.  43 
1 Chr.  xxviii.  1 — 2 Chr.  ix.  31),  and  of  Ecclus,  xlvii.  13-23. 

II.  The  contemporary  literature  of  the  reign  of  Solomon. 

1.  The  writings  of  Solomon  himself  (1  Kings  iv.  32,  3.3). 

(a.)  Three  thousand  proverbs. 

(b.)  One  thousand  and  five  songs. 

(c.)  “ Words  ” (works)  on  Natural  History. 

Of  these  some  parts  are  preserved  to  us  either  actually  or  by  imitation 
in  the  three  books  which  bear  the  name  of  Solomon. 

1.  “ The  Proverbs”  (i.  — xxix.). 

2.  “ The  Song  of  Solomon,”  or  “ The  Song  of  Songs.” 

3.  “Ecclesiastes”  or  “ The  Preacher”  (Heb.  Koheleth). 

To  these  add  the  Psalms  sometimes  connected  with  him  : Ps.  ii.,  xlv.,  Ixxii., 
cxxvii. 

ni.  Books  or  traditions  extraneous  to  the  Canon. 

1.  His  Deutero-canonical  or  apocryphal  writings. 

(a.)  The  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  in  the  person  of  Solomon,  but 
apparently  by  an  Alexandrian  Jew. 

(This  and  Krclesiaslicus  follow  in  the  LXX.  and  Vulgate, 
immediately  on  the  three  Proto-canonical  books  of  Solo- 
mon, and  with  these  are  called  “ The  five  books  of  Wis- 
dom.”) 

(&.)  The  Ps(dler  of  Solomon.  Eighteen  Psalms  which  once  stooa 
in  the  Alexandrine  MS.  at  the  end  of  the  New  Testament, 


Lect.  XXVI.  SPECIAL  AUTHORITIES  EOR  THIS  PERIOD.  183 


following  the  Epistles  of  Clemens  Romanus,  as  appears  from 
the  index.  They  have  been  published  from  a MS.  in  the 
Augsburg  Library  by  De  la  Cerda.  (Fabricius,  Codex  Pseu- 
depigrajihus  Vet.  Te.d.  914-999.)  See  Lecture  XXVIII. 

(c.)  Correspondence  between  Solomon  and  Vaphres,  King  of 
Egypt,  preserved  by  Eupolemus  (Eusebius,  Prcep.  Ev.  ix.  31, 
32). 

(</.)  Correspondence  of  Solomon  and  Hiram  of  Tyre. 

(a)  Letters  preserved  by  Eupolemus  (Eusebius,  Prcep.  Ev. 
ix.  33,  34,  and  Josephus,  Ant.  vili.  2,  § 6,  7,  8),  of  which 
the  copies  apparently  existed  both  at  Tyre  and  Jerusalem 
in  the  time  of  Josephus. 

(j3)  Riddles,  mentioned  by  Menander  and  Dios,  the  Phoeni- 
cian historians  (Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  5,  § 3,  and  c.  Apion, 
i.  17,  18;  Theophilus  Antioch,  ad  Autolgcum,  hi.  p.  131, 
132). 

(e.)  Charms,  seals,  &c.,  of  Solomon,  alluded  to  by  Josephus,  Ant. 
vih.  2,  § 5 (see  also  Pineda,  De  Rebus  Salomonis ; and  Fabri- 
cius, Codex  Pseudepigraphus  Vet.  Test.  p.  1031-1057). 

2.  Later  traditions  of  his  history. 

(a.)  In  Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  1-7. 

(&.)  In  the  Arabian  stories  (Koran,  xxii.  15-19,  xxvii.  20-45, 
xxviu.  29-39,  xxxiv.  11-13  (with  the  amplifications  in  Lane’s 
Selections,  p.  232-262)  ; D’Herbelot’s  Biblioiheque  Orientate., 
“ Soliman  ben-Daoud  ” ; Weil’s  Biblical  Legends,  p.  171-215. 

(c.)  In  Eupolemus  (Eusebius,  Prcep.  Ev.  ix.  31,  84). 


tj:ctuke  xxyl 

THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Solomon,  the  third  king  of  Israel,  is  as  unlike  either 
The  age  of  predecessors  as  each  of  them  is  unlike 

Solomon.  other.  No  person  occupies  so  large  a space 

in  Sacred  History,  of  whom  so  few  personal  incidents 
are  related.  That  stately  and  melancholy  figure  — in 
some  respects  the  grandest  and  the  saddest  in  the 
sacred  volume  — is,  in  detail,  little  more  than  a mighty 
shadow.  But  on  the  other  hand,  of  his  age,  of  his 
court,  of  his  works,  we  know  more  than  of  any  other. 
Now,  for  the  first  time  since  the  Exodus,  we  find 
distinct  traces  of  dates  — years,  months,  days.  Now  at 
last  we  seem  to  come  across  monuments,  which  possibly 
remain  to  this  day.  Of  the  earlier  ages  of  Jewish  his- 
tory, nothing  has  lasted  to  our  time  except  it  be  the 
sepulchres  and  wells,  — works  of  Nature  rather  than  of 
men.  But  it  is  not  beyond  belief  that  the  massive  walls 
at  the  reservoirs  near  Bethlehem,  the  substructures  of 
the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  and  at  Baalbec,  are  from  the 
age  of  Solomon.  Now  also  we  come  within  certain 
signs  of  contemporary  history  in  the  outer  world.  In 
the  reign  of  Solomon  we  at  last  meet  with  an  Egyptian 
sovereign,  designated  by  his  proper  name  Shishak 
and  in  his  still-existing  portraiture  on  the  walls  of 
Karnac,  we  have  thus  the  first  distinct  image  of  one 
who  beyond  question  had  communicated  with  the 
chosen  people.  Now  also  the  date  to  which  we  have 


iilf  Majori,  Knapp  tnpitji  Litii,Co  56  Pa;T<  Place  H r 


PALESTINE  DTHIXC;  THE  .MOXAIUMIY 


' i'  * 


f}it*>/\\'  oCMerom  (?) 


NoMlV 


.utiotliGili 


'<;;;.i'">.  o°a 
ii(>Uii<.'i„.,„ 

fr 


Lkct.  XXVI. 


ITS  IMPORTANCE. 


185 


attained,  the  thousandth  year  before  the  Christian  era, 
brings  us  to  a level  with  the  beginning  of  the  well- 
known  Classical  History  of  Greece  and  Italy. 

But  the  epoch  is  remarkable  not  only  for  its  distinc1> 
ness,  but  for  its  splendor.  It  is  characteristic  indeed  of 
the  Jewish  records  that,  clearly  as  Solomon’s  greatness 
is  portrayed  at  the  time,  it  is  rarely  noticed  in  them 
again.  Of  all  the  characters  of  the  Sacred  History,  he 
is  the  most  purely  secular ; and  merely  secular  magnifi- 
cence was  an  excrescence,  not  a native  growth,  of  the 
chosen  people.  Whilst  Moses  and  David  are  often 
mentioned  again  in  the  sacred  books,  Solomon’s  name 
hardly  occurs  after  the  close  of  his  reign.  But  his  fame 
ran,  as  it  were,  underground  amongst  the  traditions  of 
his  own  people  and  of  the  East  generally.  The  Greek 
form  which  the  Hebrew  name  of  Solomon  assumes  is  of 
itself  a singular  tribute  to  the  lofty  associations  mth 
which  it  was  invested.  Alexander,”  the  name  of  the 
greatest  king  of  the  Gentile  world  in  Eastern  ears,  was 
in  after  days  thought  by  the  Jews  to  be  the  fitting 
Western  version  of  the  name  of  the  greatest  king  of 
the  Jewish  world.  Alexander  Balas,”  Alexander  W 
naeus,  ” — the  Alexanders  at  the  time  of  the  Christian 
era,— are  merely  so  many  Solomons.  The  same  analogy 
spread  even  to  the  feminine  name  j and  Alexandra^  which 
hardly  ever  occurs^  in  Grecian  nomenclature,  was  a 
common  Jewish,  and  hence  has  become  a Christian, 
name,  from  being  held  to  be  the  equivalent  of  the 
Hebrew  Scdohue.  In  the  Mussulman  stories  his  name 
has  a still  wider  circulation.  Suleyman  (in  its  diminu- 
tive form  of  endearment — Little  Solomon”)  became 
the  favorite  title  of  Arabian  and  Turkish  princes,  and 
the  sense  of  his  being  the  ideal  and  prototype  of  al] 

1 Only  as  a synonym  for  the  prophetess  Cassandra. 


186 


THE  EMPIRE  OE  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVI 


great  kings  is  shown  in  the  strange  belief  that  the  forty 
sovereigns  who  ruled  over  the  world  before  the  creation 
of  man°were  all  Solimans.  Their  history  was  recounted 
by  the  Bird  of  Ages,  the  Simorg,  who  had  served  them 
all;  and  their  statues,  monstrous  Pre-Adamite  forms, 
were  supposed  to  exist  in  the  mountains  of  Kaf,  wheie 
a sacred  shield  descended  from  each  to  each. 

He  is  the  true  type  of  an  Asiatic  monarch.  “ Europe,” 
says  Hegel, ^ “ could  never  have  had  a Solomon.”  But 
of  the  potentates  of  Asia,  he  is  the  one  example  with 
which  Europe  is  most  familiar. 

And,  although  his  secular  aspect  has  withdrawn  him 
from  the  religious  interest  which  attaches  to  many  others 
of  the  Jewish  saints  and  heroes,  yet  in  this  very  circum- 
stance there  are  points  of  attraction  indispensable  to  the 
development  of  the  Sacred  History.  It  enables  us  to 
study  his  reign  more  freely  than  is  possible  in  the  case- 
of  the  more  purely  religious  characters  of  the  Bible. 
He  is,  in  a still  more  exact  sense  than  his  father,  “ one 
“ of  the  great  men  of  the  earth”  ® — and,  as  such,  we  can 
deal  with  his  history,  as  we  should  with  theirs.  It  thus 
serves  as  a connecting  link  between  the  common  and 
the  Sacred  world.  To  have  had  many  such  characters 
in  the  Biblical  History  would  have  brought  it  down  too 
nearly  to  the  ordinary  level.  But  to  have  one  such  is 
necessary  to  show  that  the  interest  which  we  inevitably 
feel  in  such  events  and  such  men  has  a place  in  the 
designs  of  Providence,  and  in  the  lessons  of  Revelation. 
In  Solomon,  too,  we  find  the  first  beginnings  of  that 
wider  view  which  ended  at  last  in  the  expansion  of 
Judaism  into  Christianity.  His  reign  contains  the  first 
historical  record  of  the  contact  between  Western  Europe 

I inierbelot,  “ Sollman  bcu-  PliUo.wphic  <kr  Geschichle,  151 

„ 3 See  Lecture  XXIII. 

Daoud. 


hacT.  XXYI. 


HIS  i\AME. 


187 


and  Eastern  India.  In  his  fearless  encouragement  of 
ecclesiastical  architecture  is  the  first  sanction  of  the 
employment  of  art  in  the  service  of  a true  Religion. 
In  his  writings  and  in  the  literature  which  springs  from 
them,  is  the  only  Hebrew  counterpart  to  the  philosophy 
of  Greece.  For  all  these  reasons,  there  is  in  him  a like- 
ness, one-sided  indeed,  of  the  Son  of  David,”  in  whom 
East  and  West,  philosophy  and  religion,  were  reconciled 
together.^ 


Solomon  was  the  second  son  of  David  and  Bathsheba, 
There  is  something  more  than  usually  signifi- 
cant in  his  names,  arising  probably  from  the 
peculiar  circumstances  of  his  birth.  His  first  name  was 
Jedidiah,  ^^beloved  by  Jehovah,”  said  to  have  been  given, 
perhaps  by  Nathan,  as  a sign  of  David’s  forgiveness  — 
because  Jehovah  loved  him.”^  It  is  the  sanctification 
of  the  name  of  David ^ — the  darling”  becomes  ^^Je- 
hovah’s Darling.”  That  by  which  he  was  afterwards 
known  was  Shelomoh,^  ^^The  Peaceful”  (corresponding 
to  the  German  Friedrich”),  in  contrast  to  David’s  wars, 
possibly  in  connection  with  the  great  peace  at  the  time 
of  his  birth.®  In  one  version  of  David’s  address  to  Sol- 
omon, he  tells  his  son  that  his  birth  had  been  predicted 
at  the  time  when,  after  the  capture  of  Jerusalem,  he  had 
first  meditated  the  building  of  the  Temple,  and  that  the 
significance  of  his  career  had  already  been  intimated. 

Behold  a son  shall  be  born  to  thee,  who  shall  be  a man 
“ of  rest ; and  I will  give  him  rest  from  all  his  enemies 
round  about;  for  his  name  shall  be  Shelbmoh  (peace- 
" fill) ; and  I will  give  peace  and  quietness  unto  Israel  in 


1 See  Lecture  XX Vin.  4 of  tli?  LXX.  is  shortened 

3 2 Sam.  xii.  25  ; Neh.  xiii.  26.  into  ’Lolo/xuv  in  the  N.  T.,  whence 
Possibly  Ps.  cxxvii.  8.  Compare  the  our  “ Solomon.” 
change  of  Hoshea  to  Joshua.  5 See  Lecture  XXII. 

3 See  Jedidiah  in  Diet,  of  BitU. 


188 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVI 


^ his  day.  He  shall  build  an  house  for  My  name ; and 
he  shall  be  My  son,  and  I his  father ; and  I will  estah- 
" lish  the  throne  of  his  kingdom  over  Israel  for  ever.”  ^ 
Nothing  is  known  of  his  youth,  unless  it  be  that  he 
was  brought  up  by  Nathan,^  and  that  after  the 

His  youth. 

death  ot  the  two  eldest  and  best  beloved  of 
David’s  earlier  sons,  Ammon  and  Absalom,  he  must  have 
been  regarded  as  the  heir.  He  was  Bathsheba’s  favor- 
ite son,  ^Hender  and  only  beloved  in  the  sight  of  his 
mother,”^  and  Bathsheba,  we  cannot  doubt,  was  David’s 
favorite  wife,  and  to  her  David  had  pledged  her  son’s 
accession  by  a solemn  and  separate  oath.^ 

But  another  son,  in  point  of  age,  came  next  after 
Absalom  — Adonijah,  the  son  of  Haggith.  Of 
Adonijah.  mother  we  know  nothing  but  her  name, 

‘Hhe  Dancer.”  Like  Absalom,  he  was  remarkable  for 
his  personal  beauty ; and,  like  Absalom,  he  was  dear  to 
his  father’s  heart.  From  the  days  of  his  early  child- 
hood at  Hebron,  it  had  been  observed  that  the  King  had 
never  put  any  restraint  upon  him,  — never  had  said. 
Why  hast  thou  done  so  ? ” ® He,  as  his  father’s  end 
approached,  determined  to  anticipate  the  vacancy  of 
the  throne  by  seizing  upon  it  himself®  What  hidden 
springs  were  at  work  — how  far  (as  seems  implied)  the 
new  concubine  of  the  aged  King,  Abishag  the  Shunam- 
mite,  was  in  Adonijah’s  favor  — whether,  as  has  been 

1 1 Chron.  xxii.  9.  to  the  Jewish  tradition,  after  the 

2 2 Sam.  xii.  25,  or  (1  Chr.  xxvii.  death  of  the  first  child  (Jerome  on  2 

32)  by  Jehiel.  Sam.  xii.). 

3 Prov.  iv.  3.  For  some  ingenious  ^ 1 Kings  i.  6. 

conjectures  as  to  the  unfavorable  in-  ® “ The  Shah  of  Persia,  at  the 

fluences  at  work  on  his  cai'ly  cduca-  beginning  of  this  century,  had  sixty 
tion,  see  Professor  Plumptre  In  the  sons,  all  brought  up  by  their  moth- 
Dict.  of  the  BihUy  article  Solomon,  ers  with  the  hope  of  succeeding  ” 

4 1 Kings  I.  13,  17,  30.  According  (Morier). 


LacT.  XXVI. 


REVOLT  OF  ADONIJAII. 


189 


conjectured,  she  was  the  beautiful  Shulamite  of  the 
Canticles  — whether  Adonijah  had  already  professed  for 
her  that  affection  which  he  openly  avowed  after  his 
father’s  death  — are  amongst  the  secrets  of  the  Harem 
of  Jerusalem,  of  which  only  a few  hints  transpire,  to 
awaken  without  satisfying  our  curiosity.^  He  took  pre- 
cisely the  same  course  that  had  been  adopted  by  Absa- 
lom. He  assumed  the  royal  state  and  the  same  number 
of  runners  to  clear  the  streets,  and  the  same  unwonted 
addition  of  horses  to  his  chariots.^  As  Absalom  had 
won  over  Ahithophel,  so  he  won  over  the  two  chief 
amongst  the  older  advisers  of  the  King,  each  of  whom 
probably  had  his  own  cause  of  quarrel.  Abiathar’s 
reasons  for  disaffection  we  can  only  infer  from  the 
rising  favor  of  Zadok.  Joab,  as  we  have  already  seen, 
had  more  than  one  deep  resentment  brooding  in  his 
breast,  and  there  is  something  mournful  in  the  sigh  that 
the  sacred  historian  heaves  over  the  events  which,  at 
the  close  of  his  long  life,  at  last  broke  the  unshaken 
loyalty  of  the  venerable  soldier.  Though  he  had  not 

turned  after  Absalom,^  he  turned  after  Adonijah.”  The 
other  Princes,  his  brothers,  also  joined  him.  If  they 
were  all  living  at  this  time,  they  were  no  less  than 
fifteen  in  number.  These,  with  the  King’s  servants,” 
must  have  made  a formidable  band.  The  rendezvous 
was  at  a huge  stone,  — the  stone  of  serpents,”  — near 
the  spring  of  En-rogel,^  where  afterwards  were  the  royal 

1 See  this  suggested  by  Mr.  Grove,  3 i Kings  ii.  28,  or,  less  impres- 

in  the  Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  art.  sively,  in  the  Vatican  IMS.  of  the 
SnuL AMITE,  and  curiously  worked  LXX.  and  Josephus  {Ant.  viii.  1,  § 
out  by  Professor  Plumptre.  4)  ; “ He  turned  not  after  Solomon.’* 

2 “ The  ninners  {Shatth')  before  ^ It  is  doubtful  whether  this  was 

the  king’s  horse  in  Persia  are  indis-  the  present  “ Fountain  of  the  Virgin,” 
pensable  to  the  royal  state.  They  go  or  the  well  now  called  after  Job  or 
in  a line  two  and  two,  the  chief  by  Joab.  (See  Lect.  XXIV.)  If  the 
the  king’s  stirrups  ” (Morier).  latter,  the  name  may  possibly  be 


190 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVI 


gardens,  and  where  they  would  have  at  once  a natural 
altar  for  the  sacrificial  feast,  and  water  for  the  necessary 
ablutions.  In  this  general  disaffection  there  remained 
faithful  to  the  cause  of  Solomon  — the  mighty  men ; ” 
the  body-guard ; ” two  high  personages  obscurely  indi- 
cated as  Shimei  ^ and  Eei ; ^ Zadok,  the  younger  Chief 
Priest,  who  also  had  a prophetic  gift,  and  was  known  as 
the  seer ; ” ^ and  above  all,  Solomon’s  preceptor,  the 
Prophet  Nathan,  who,  now  that  Gad  (as  it  seems)  was 
dead,  remained  the  chief  representative  of  the  Prophetic 
order.  He,  with  Bathsheba,  succeeded  in  rousing  the 
languid  energies  of  the  aged  King,  who  threw  the  whole 
weight  of  his  great  name  into  the  scale  of  Solomon,  and 
advised  the  course  to  be  pursued. 

The  boy  Prince  was  mounted  on  the  royal  mule,  and, 
Coronation  Rccompanied  by  Nathan,  and  by  Benaiah,  the 
of  Solomon.  head  of  the  royal  guard,  went  down 

from  the  palace  to  Gihon.^  Zadok  was  present  with 
the  sacred  oil,  which,  as  Priest  at  the  sanctuary  at  Gib- 
eon,  was  in  his  custody,®  and  poured  it  on  the  young 
man’s  head,  Nathan  assisting  in  the  ceremony,  as 
Prophet.®  Then  Zadok blew  his  sacred  ram’s  horn, 
the  trumpeters  of  the  guard  followed,  as  was  from  this 
time  forward  the  custom  at  the  inauguration  of  kings,® 
with  a loud  blast  which  announced  to  the  assembled 
concourse  the  event  which  had  just  occurred.  A shout 
went  up,  — Long  live  King  Solomon ! ” amidst  the 

taken  from  Joab  in  connection  with  4 Probably  Siloam. 
this  incident.  5 LXX.  1 Kings  i.  39,  45. 

1 Either  the  famous  Benjamite,  or  6 “ In  Persia,  the  Muslitclied  or 
more  probably  Shimeah,  David’s  sec-  chief  ecclesiastical  functionary  is  there 
ond  brother,  and  Solomon’s  uncle.  to  gird  on  the  sword ; the  Munajem, 

2 According  to  Jewish  traditions,  the  prophet  or  astrologer,  is  there  to 

the  same  as  Tra  ; according  to  Ewald,  fix  the  fortunate  hour  ” (hlorier). 
Raddai.  David’s  fifth  brother.  " 1 Kings  i.  39  (LXX.). 

3 2 Sam.  XV.  27.  8 2 Kings  ix.  13 ; xi.  14. 


Lxct.  XXVI. 


HIS  ACCESSION. 


191 


acclamations  of  the  multitude,  who  expressed  their  joy 
after  the  manner  of  Orientals,  in  wild  music  and  vehe- 
ment dancing.^  He  was  brought  into  the  palace,  and 
formally  seated  on  the  royal  throne,”  ^ and  henceforth 
was  addressed  as  “ King.”^  The  guests  then  entered  the 
presence  of  David,  and  in  the  form  of  Eastern  benedic- 
tion said,  God  make  the  name  of  Solomon  better  than 
^Hhy  name,  and  make  his  throne  greater  than  thy 
throne ; ” and  the  aged  King,  in  spite  of  his  infirmi- 
ties, prostrated  himself  in  acquiescence  on  his  bed.^ 

The  same  trumpet-note  which  had  roused  the  enthusi- 
asm of  the  citizens  of  Jerusalem  had  startled  the  con- 
spirators at  Adonijah’s  feast.  It  struck  on  the  watchful 
and  experienced  ear  of  Joab,  and  the  next  moment 
there  rushed  in  upon  them  Jonathan,  the  son  of  the 
rebel  Priest  Abiathar,  he  who  in  the  revolt  of  Absalom 
had  been  employed  as  a spy  and  a messenger,  probably 
from  the  same  qualities  which  made  him  on  this  day  the 
first  bearer  of  evil  tidings.  The  festivities  were  broken 
off.  Adonijah  fled  to  the  altar  for  refuge.  His  proposal 
to  have  Abishag  for  his  wife,  after  his  father’s  death, 
whether  prompted  by  affection,  or,  as  Solomon  inter- 
preted it,  ambition,  brought  him  shortly  after  to  his  end. 
And  in  the  same  ruin  were  involved  the  aged  priest 
and  warrior  who  had  shared  his  fortunes.  Abiathar  was 
by  the  sovereign  act  of  Solomon  deposed  from  his 
office ; a momentary  reminiscence  of  the  great  day, 
when  he  had  stood  by  David  with  the  ark  on  Olivet, 
caused  his  life  to  be  spared  for  the  time,  but  only  for  the 
time.^  He  spent  the  short  remnant  of  his  days  on  his 
property  at  Anathoth,  and  with  him  expired  the  last 

1 1 Kings  i.  40  (Heb.  and  LXX.).  3 j Kings  i.  39,  5.1,  53. 

2 Ibid  i.  46.  Comp.  ii.  12,  19;  i.  ^ Ibid.  i.  4 7. 

80,  35,  37,  48.  5 Ibid.  ii.  26. 


192 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lbct.  XXVI 


glory  of  the  house  of  Eli.  His  descendants  might  be 
seen  prowling  about  the  sanctuary,  which  their  ances- 
tors had  once  ruled,  begging  from  their  fortunate  rivals 
a piece  of  silver^  or  a cake  of  bread.  Joab  fled  up  the 
steep  ascent  of  Gibeon,  and  clung  to  the  ancient  bra- 
zen altar  which  stood  in  front  of  the  Sacred  Tent.  The 
same  disregard  of  ceremonial  sanctity  which  the  King 
had  shown  in  deposing  the  venerable  Abiathar,  he  now 
showed  by  deciding  that  even  the  sacredness  of  the 
altar  was  not  to  protect  the  man  who  had  reeked  with 
the  blood  of  Abner  and  Amasa ; and,  accordingly,  the 
white-headed^  warrior  of  a hundred  fights,  with  his 
hands  still  clasping  the  consecrated  structure,  was  exe- 
cuted by  the  hands  of  his  ancient  comrade  Benaiah. 
The  body  was  buried  in  funeral  state  at  his  own  prop- 
erty in  the  hills  overhanging  the  Jordan  valley.^  Last 
of  all,  partly  by  his  own  rashness,  perished  the  formi- 
dable neighbor,  the  aged  Shimei,^  of  the  house  of  Saul. 
The  mind  of  Christian  Europe  instinctively  shudders  at 
this  cold-blooded  vengeance  on  crimes  long  forgiven ; 
yet  it  may  be  that  in  the  silent  approbation  of  Solo- 
mon’s policy  which  the  sacred  narrative  conveys,  there 
is  something  of  the  same  feeling  which,  translated  into 
our  language,  bids  us,  in  spite  of  our  natural  sentiments 
of  pity  and  reverence,  ^^not  spare  the  hoary  head  of 
‘Gnveterate  abuse.”  ^ 

It  was  this  rapid  suppression  of  all  resistance  that 
was  known  in  the  formal  language  of  the  time  as  the 
‘^Establishment”  or  ‘‘Enthronization ” of  Solomon.  As 
David’s  oath  had  been,  in  allusion  to  the  troubles  of  his 

1 1 Kinnjs  ii.  27  ; 1 Sam.  ii.  36.  ^ 1 Kings  ii.  9,  42.  (Ewald,  iii. 

2 Ibid.  ii.  6.  272.) 

3 Ibid.  ii.  28-34.  Comp.  2 Sam.  ® Burke,  as  quoted  in  Stracbey’a 

ii.  32.  Hebrew  Politics,  p.  131. 


Litci.  XXVI. 


HIS  ACCESSION. 


193 


early  life,  As  the  Lord  liveth,  that  hath  redeemed  my 
soul  out  of  distress,”  — so  the  oath  of  Solomon,  in 
allusion  to  this  signal  entrance  on  his  new  reign,  was, 
^^As  the  Lord  liveth,  which  hath  established  me,  and  set 
me  on  the  throne  of  David  my  father,”^  without  a rival 
or  rebel  to  contest  it. 

It  was  probably  on  the  occasion  of  his  final  anointing 
or  inauguration  on  Mount  Zion,  that  through  Nathan, 
or  through  Zadok,  the  oracle  was  delivered,  to  which 
allusion  is  made  in  the  second  Psalm,  — ^ 

“ I have  anointed  My  king 
On  Zion,  My  holy  mountain.”  * 

It  was  like  a battle  fought  and  won,  of  the  new  per- 
manent organization  of  the  monarchy  over  the  wild 
anarchical  elements  of  the  older  system  that  had  still 
lingered  in  the  reign  of  David.  Joab,  the  Douglas  of 
the  house  of  David,  was  like  a Douglas  slain ; with  the 
fall  of  Shimei,  perished  the  last  bitter  representative  of 
the  rival  house  of  Saul ; the  Chief  Priest  Abiathar,  last 
of  the  house  of  Eli,  was  the  last  possessor  of  the  now 
obsolete  oracle  of  Urim  and  Thummim,  the  last  sur- 
vivor of  David’s  early  companions ; the  young  King 
triumphed  over  all  the  ancient  factions  of  Israel,  and 
in  him  triumphed  the  cause  of  monarchy  and  of  civili- 
zation for  all  coming  time.  It  is  fitting  that  from  this 
accession  — the  first  hereditary  accession  to  the  throne 
of  Israel  — should  have  been  copied  and  descended 
even  to  our  own  day,  the  ceremonial  - of  the  corona- 
tion of  Christian  sovereigns  — the  coronation  anthem, 
the  enthronization,  the  trumpets,  the  wild  acclamations, 
even  the  Eastern  anointing.^ 

1 1 Kings  ii.  24;  compare  i.  17,  3 The  anointing  of  the  Jewish 

SO  ; ii.  12,  45,  46.  kings  is  recorded  only  when  the  s'uc- 

* Ps.  ii.  6,  7.  (See  Ewald.)  cession  was  contested. 

VOL.  II.  IS 


194 


THE  EMPIUE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lkct.  XXVI 


This  wonderful  calm  must  have  been  rendered  doubly 
striking,  if  be  was,  as  is  most  probable,  but  a mere  ooy 
at  this  time  — fifteen  according  to  one  tradition,  twelve 
according  to  another  — in  appearance,  if  not  in  years, 
a little  child,”  young  and  tender.”^  To  this  combi- 
nation of  incidents  belongs  the  only  narrative  which 
exhibits  bis  personal  character.  It  contains  in  a lively 
form  the  prelude  of  the  coming  reign. 

The  national  worship  was  still  in  the  unsettled  state 
His  visit  to  which  it  had  been  since  the  first  entrance 
Gibeon.  Palestine.  The  people  sacrificed  in  high- 

places,”  David  himself  had  worshipped  ” on  the  top 
of  Olivet.^  The  two  main  objects  of  special  reverence 
were  parted  asunder.  The  ark  stood  in  a temporary 
tent  within  David’s  fortress  on  Mount  Zion.  The  chief 
local  sanctity  still  adhered  to  the  spot  where  ^Hhe 
Tabernacle  of  the  Congregation  ” stood,  on  what  was 
called  the  great  high-place  of  Gribeon.”  This  was  the 
lofty  eminence  which  overlooks  the  whole  of  Judea,  in 
modern  times  known  by  the  name  of  “the  Prophet 
Samuel.”  ^ On  the  summit  of  this  mountain  was  “ the 
Tabernacle  of  the  Congregation,”  — the  ancient  Tent 
of  the  Wanderings.  In  front  of  it  rose  the  venerable 
structure  of  the  brazen  altar,  wrought  by  the  hands  of 
the  earliest  Israelite  artist,  Bezaleel,  the  grandson  of 
Hur.  In  this  Tabernacle  ministered  the  Chief  Priest 
Zadok,  who  had  thence  brought  the  sacred  oil  for  the 
inauguration  of  Solomon,  and  who  was  now  the  sole 
representative  of  the  Araonic  family.  Hither,^  therefore, 

1 1 Kings  iii.  7 ; 1 Chron.  xxix.  1.  ^ I Kings  iii.  2 ; 2 Sam.  xv.  32. 

According  to  1 Kings  xi.  42,  xiv.  21,  See  Lecture  XXXVII. 
he  could  not  have  been  less  than  3 Nehj/  Samioil. 
twenty.  But  Josephus  {Ant.  viii.  7,  4 Josephus  {Ant.  viii.  2,  § 1)  has 

8)  makes  him  fifteen,  Eupolemus  “ Hebron.”  He  makes  the  same 
(Euseb.  Prcep.  Ev.  ix.  30)  twelve.  change  in  Ant.  x.  9,  § ; comp.  Jer. 

xli.  12. 


Lkct.  XXVI. 


THE  CHOICE  OF  SOLOMON. 


193 


as  on  a solemn  pilgrimage,  with  a vast  concourse  of 
dignitaries,  the  young  King  came  to  offer  royal  sacri- 
fices on  his  accession.  A thousand  victims  were  con- 
sumed on  the  ancient  altar.  The  night  was  spent 
within  the  sacred  city  of  Gibeon.^  And  now  occurred 
one  of  those  prophetic  dreams  which  had  already  been 
the  means  of  Divine  communication  in  the  time  of 
Samuel.  Thrice  in  Solomon’s  life  — at  the  three  epochs 
of  his  rise,  of  his  climax,  of  his  fall  — is  such  a warning 
recorded.  This  was  the  first.  It  was  the  choice  offered 
to  the  youthful  King  on  the  threshold  of  life,  — the 
choice,  so  often  imagined  in  fiction,  and  actually  pre- 
sented in  real  life,  — ^‘Ask  what  I shall  give  thee.”  The 
answer  is  the  ideal  answer  of  such  a Prince,  burdened  ^ 
with  the  responsibility  of  his  position.  He  remembered 
the  high  antecedents  of  his  predecessor  — Thou  hast 
‘^showed  unto  thy  servant  David,  my  father,  great  mercy, 
according  as  he  walked  before  Thee  in  truth,  and  in 
uprightness,  and  in  righteousness  of  heart  with  thee.” 
He  remembered  his  own  youth  and  weakness ; I am 
but  a little  child  — I know  not  how  to  go  out  or  to 
come  in.”  He  remembered  the  vastness  of  his  charge ; 
In  the  midst  of  thy  people  which  thou  hast  chosen : a 
great  people  which  cannot  be  numbered  nor  counted 
“ for  multitude  : and  who  is  able  to  judge  this  thy  peo- 
pie  that  is  so  great.”  He  made  the  demand  for  the 
gift  which  he  of  all  the  heroes  of  the  ancient  Church 
was  the  first  to  claim : Give  thy  servant  an  under- 
“ standing  heart  to  judge  thy  people,  that  I may  discern 
between  good  and  bad.”^ 

1 Thenius  conjectures  that  we  expressions  in  1 Kings  i.  33  (“  bring 
ebould  read  Gibeon  for  Gihon  in  1 down  ”),  and  41  (“heard  the  ram’s 
Kings  i.  33,  38,  45.  This  would  horn  ”). 

doubtless  agree  well  with  2 Chron.  i.  2 i Kings  iii.  5-10;  2 Chr.  i.  7-KX 
I,  but  is  hardly  consistent  with  the 


\ QO  THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON.  Lect.  XXVI 

He  showed  his  wisdom  by  asking  for  wisdom.  He 
became  wise,  because  he  had  set  his  heart  upon  it.  This 
was  to  him  the  special  aspect  through  which  the  Divine 
Spirit  was  to  be  approached,  and  grasped,  and  made  to 
bear  on  the  wants  of  men ; not  the  highest,  not  the 
choice  of  David,  not  the  choice  of  Isaiah ; but  still  the 
choice  of  Solomon.  ^^He  awoke  and  behold  it  was 
a dream.”  But  the  fulfilment  of  it  belonged  to  actual 
life. 

From  the  height  of  Gibeon,^  the  King  returned  to 
The  judg.  complete  the  festival  of  his  accession  before  the 
Solomon.  other  monument  of  the  Mosaic  E-eligion  — the 
Ark,  at  Jerusalem.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  these  sacrifi- 
cial solemnities  that  his  gift  of  judicial  insight  was  first 
publicly  attested.  Every  part  of  the  incident  is  charac- 
teristic.^ The  two  mothers,  degraded  as  was  their  con- 
dition, came,  as  the  Eastern  stories  so  constantly  tell  of 
the  humblest  classes,  to  demand  justice  from  the  King. 
He  patiently  listens  j the  people  stand  by,^  wondering 
what  the  childlike  sovereign  will  determine.  The 
mother  of  the  living  child  tells  her  tale  with  all  the 
plaintiveness  and  particularity  of  truth ; and  describes 
how,  as  she  “looked  at  him  again  and  again,  behold,  it 
“ was  not  my  son  which  I did  bear.”  The  King  deter- 
mines, by  throwing  himself  upon  the  instincts  of  nature, 
to  cut  asunder  the  sophistry  of  argument.  The  living 
child  ^ was  to  be  divided  — and  the  one  half  given  to 
one,  the  other  half  to  the  other.  The  true  mother 
betra}^s  her  affection : “ 0 my  lord,  give  her  the  living 
'^babe  (the  word  is  peculiar),  and  in  no  wise  slay  it.” 

1 It  is  just  possible  that  the  Wady  2 j Kings  iii.  16-28  (Ileb.).  The 
Suleyman,  which  runs  down  from  story  is  omitted  in  2 Chr.  i.  13. 

Giheon  towards  the  maritime  plain,  3 Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  2,  § 2. 
may  have  received  its  name  from  this  ^ Or  the  two  children,  Josephus, 
visit.  (ibidy 


iacT.  XXVI. 


ITS  EXTERNAL  RELATIONS 


197 


The  King  repeats,  word  for  word,  the  cry  of  the  mother, 
as  if  questioning  its  meaning.  Give  her  the  living 
hahe^  and  in  no  wise  slay  it  ” ? then  bursts  forth  into 
his  own  conviction,  She  is  the  mother.” 

The  reign  which  was  thus  inaugurated  is,  after  this, 
almost  without  events.  For  this  reason,  as  well  as  from 
the  confusion  of  the  various  texts  which  describe  it,  it 
must  be  viewed  not  chronologically,  but  under  its  dif- 
ferent aspects,  — of  his  Empire,  his  great  buildings,  and 
his  writings. 

I.  The  Empire  of  Solomon  in  its  external  relations. 
In  actual  extent,  the  boundaries  of  Israel  did  External 

relations  of 

not  reach  beyond  the  conquests  of  David.  But  the  Empire, 
it  was  reserved  for  Solomon  to  fill  up  what  David  had 
but  established  in  part.  “ He  shall  have  dominion  from 
sea  to  sea,  and  from  the  Euphrates  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth.”  ’ The  Lord  magnified  Solomon  exceedingly. 

. and  bestowed  upon  him  such  royal  majesty  as 
had  not  been  on  any  king  before  him  in  Israel.”  ^ 
For  the  most  part  this  wide  dominion  was  established, 
in  accordance  with  the  promise  of  his  name,  by  arts  of 
peace.  But  there  were  two  or  three  exceptions,  appar- 
ently at  the  commencement  of  his  reign. 

It  was,  indeed,  not  surprising  that  the  surrounding 
nations,  especially  Edom  and  Syria,  when  they  heard  of 
the  accession  of  so  young  a sovereign,  should  have 
aspired  to  throw  off  the  yoke  which  his  warlike  fixther 
had  imposed  upon  them.  Edom  was  the  first.  A young 
Edomite  prince,  Hadad,  had  escaped  from  the  extermi- 
nation of  his  countrymen  by  the  sword  of  Joab,  at  the 
time  of  David’s  conquest,  and  had  lain  concealed  in  the 
court  of  Egypt  till  the  news  arrived  of  the  death  of  the 

1 Ps.  Ixxil  8.  is  exactly  in  the  style  of  the  Assyrian 

* 1 Chr.  xxix,  25.  The  connection  inscriptions. 


198 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Leot.  XX\  I 


two  oppressors  of  his  country.  Against  the  will  of  his 
Egj  ptian  protector  he  returned,  and  kept  up  more  or 
less  of  a guerilla  warfare  amongst  the  Idumman  moun- 
tains, all  the  days  of  Solomon.^  A second  was  Kezon, 
who  had  escaped  from  the  rout  of  the  Syrians  in  David’s 
expedition  against  Zobah,  and  at  the  head  of  a band  of 
freebooters  established  himself  in  Damascus.^ 

These,  with  possibly  attempts  at  insurrection  on  the 
part  of  the  old  Canaanite  population,  must  be  the  up- 
heavings  which  gave  occasion  to  the  2d  Psalm.  ^*^Why 
do  the  heathen  imagine  a vain  thing,  and  the  rulers 
'^of  the  earth  stand  up  together  against  Jehovah  and 
against  His  anointed?”  All  these  tumultuary  move- 
ments were  waiting  their  time  to  break  out  as  soon  as 
Solomon  was  removed ; but  to  him  was  given  the  hea- 
then  for  his  inheritance,  and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
earth  for  a possession.  He  broke  them  with  a rod  of 
iron,  and  dashed  them  i»i  pieces  like  a potter’s  vessel ; ” 
and  over  that  vast  dominion,  with  mingled  joy  and  fear, 
he  was  served  till  the  close  of  his  magnificent  career. 

1.  In  the  north  and  northeast,  Hamath,  which  ap- 
parently had  thrown  off  the  yoke  on  David’s 
With  Syria,  ^.g^QYered.^  Fortresses^  were  estab- 

lished along  the  heights  of  Lebanon,  and  stations  along 
the  desert  towards  the  Euphrates.  Of  these  establish- 
ments two  remain,  which,  partly  by  tradition,  partly 
by  resemblance  of  name,  are  connected  with  Solomon. 
One  is  Baalbec  ; the  great  sanctuary,  which  commanded 
the  valley  of  Coelesyria,  on  the  way  to  Hamath,  and  of 
which  the  enormous  substructions  ^ appear  to  date  from 


4 Ibid.  3-5.  “ They  that  dwell  in  ^ Beyond  the  inference  suggested 


1 1 Kings  xl.  14-22. 

2 Ibid.  23-25. 

3 2 Chr.  vili.  3. 


the  wilderness  shall  bow  before  him; 
his  enemies  shall  lick  the  dust.”  Ps. 
Ixxll.  9. 


UcT.  XXVI. 


ITS  EXTERNAL  RELATIONS 


199 


an  age  far  anterior  to  the  Syro-Greek  or  Syro-Roinan 
temples  built  upon  them.  Eastward  his  dominion  ex- 
tended to  Thapsacus  (Tiphsach^),  and  on  the  way  to 
this  is  the  other  probable  memorial  of  his  greatness, 

Tadmor  in  the  wilderness  ; ” if  we  may  trust  the  native 
name  which  has  clung  to  the  famous  city  of  Zenobia,  in 
spite  of  its  Roman  appellation,  by  which  it  has  been 
translated.^  Its  situation,  in  what  must  then  have  been 
a palm-grove,  at  the  point  where  the  wide  barren  valley, 
enclosed  between  two  parallel  ranges  of  hills,  opens  on 
the  still  wider  desert,  and  where  the  abundant  springs 
gather  round  it  a circle  of  vegetation,  would  naturally 
have  pointed  it  out  to  Solomon  as  a site  for  a city,  or  a 
halting-place  for  caravans  half-way  between  Damascus 
and  Babylon.  The  ruins  which  now  attract  the  travel- 
ler’s attention,  are  of  a time  long  posterior  to  the  J ewish 
monarchy.  But  even  as  late  as  the  twelfth  century, 
Benjamin  of  Tudela  describes  its  walls  as  being  built  of 
stones  equally  gigantic  with  those  Avhich  form  the  glory 
of  Baalbec.  They  have  disappeared  ; and  of  the  ancient 
city,  if  so  be,  of  Solomon,  there  are  now  no  vestiges  but 
mounds  of  rubbish  and  ruin,  unless,  as  at  Baalbec,  some 
of  the  larger  stones  forming  the  substructions  of  the 
Temple  of  the  Sun  are  of  that  date,^  and  the  columns  of 

by  the  gigantic  size  of  these  remains,  the  building  of  Tadmor  or  Tamar  Is 
there  is  no  certain  indication  of  their  coupled  with  fortresses  in  the  south 
Solomonian  origin.  “ Baalath,”  of  1 of  Palestine,  and  the  words  “in  the 
Kings  X.  18,  is  in  the  south  of  Pales-  land  ” are  added,  as  if  to  show  that 
tine.  It  may  possibly  be  “ Baal-  “ the  wilderness  ” spoken  of  was  that 
Hamon  ” in  Cant.  viii.  11,  where  within  Judea,  and  to  this  would 
Bolomon  had  vineyards.  correspond  the  situation  of  Tamaf 

1 I Kings  iv.  24.  • (Ezek.  xlvii.  19),  probably  Hazazon- 

2 This  is  expressly  asserted  by  Tamar  or  Engedi  (2  Chr.  xx.  2). 
Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  6,  § 1,  and  im-  3 Miss  Beaufort’s  Syrian  Shrines^ 
plied  in  2 Chron.  viii.  4.  But  here  a i.  356. 

doubt  creeps  in.  In  1 Kings  ix.  18, 


200 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVI. 


Egyptian  granite  ascribed  to  Solomon  at  the  entrance 
of  the  Templed 

2.  But  the  most  important  influences  brought  to  bear 
Relations  development  of  the  kingdom  were  those 

mthLOTt-  of  Egypt,  Arabia,  and  Tyre. 

Now,  for  the  first  time  since  the  Exodus,  Israel  was 
again  brought  into  contact  with  the  kingdom  of  the 
Pharaohs.  The  Egyptian  sovereign  at  this  time  was 
probably  reigning*^  at  Tanis.  His  Queen’s  name  (Tah- 
penes)  is  preserved  to  us.^  A correspondence  with  him, 
under  the  name  of  Yaphres,  is  preserved  in  heathen 
records.^ 

From  the  first  moment  of  Solomon’s  accession,  the 
Egyptian  King  was  so  favorably  disposed  towards  the 
young  Prince  as  to  withdraw  all  countenance  from  the 
designs  of  Hadad,  who  had  become  his  nephew  by  mar- 
riage. Not  long  afterwards,  his  daughter  became  Solo- 
mon’s Queen.^  He  had  attacked  and  conquered  the 
refractory  Canaanite  kingdom  of  Gezer,  which  had  re- 
mained -independent,  on  the  southwestern  frontier  of 
Palestine,  and  resisted  the  arms  of  all  the  Israelite  chiefs 
from  Joshua  down  to  David,  and  which  thus  became  the 
dowry  of  the  Egyptian  Princess.® 

Besides  the  indirect  influences  which  this  connection 
exercised,  as  we  shall  see,  on  the  architecture,  the  man- 
ners, the  literature,  and  the  religion  of  Israel,  it  led  at 
once  to  the  reestablishment  of  an  intercourse,  which 
would  have  been  inconceivable  to  the  Hebrews  who, 
standing  on  the  shores  of  the  Bed  Sea,  seemed  to  have 
parted  with  the  Egyptians  forever.  Horses  and  chariots, 
before  almost  unknown  in  Palestine,  were  now  brought 

1 Miss  Beaufort’s  Syrian  Shrines,  i. 

560. 

2 pjwald,  ill.  279. 

3 1 Kings  xl.  19. 


4 Eusebius,  Prcep.  Ev.  ix.  31. 

5 1 Kings  iii.  1. 

® Ibid.  ix.  16. 


Lect.  XXVI. 


ITS  EXTERNAL  RELATIONS. 


201 


in  as  regular  articles  of  commerce  from  Egypt.^  Stables 
were  established  on  an  enormous  scale,  — both  for  horses 
and  dromedaries.^  Four  miles  out  of  Jerusalem,  under 
the  King’s  own  patronage,  a celebrated  caravanserai  for 
travellers  into  Egypt  — - the  first  halting- place  on  their 
route  — was  founded  by  Chimham,  son  of  Barzillai,  on 
the  property  granted  to  him  by  David  out  of  the  pater- 
nal patrimony  of  Bethlehem.  That  caravanserai  re- 
mained with  Chimham’s  name  for  at  least  four  centu- 
ries,^ and,  according  to  the  immovable  usages  of  the 
East,  it  probably  was  the  same  which,  at  the  time  of  the 
Christian  era,  furnished  shelter  for  two  travellers  with 
their  infant  child,  when  there  was  no  room  in  the  inn,” 
and  when  they  too  from  that  spot  fled  into  Egypt. 

3.  Doubtless  through  the  same  Egyptian  influence 
was  secured  a still  more  important  outlet  of  Relations 
commerce  on  the  southeast.  Through  the  es-  ^uh Arabia, 
tablishment  of  a port  at  the  head  of  the  gulf  of  Elath, 
Palestine  at  last  gained  an  access  to  the  Indian  Ocean. 
Ezion-geber,  the  Giant’s  Backbone,”  so  called  probably 
from  the  huge  range  of  mountains  on  each  side  of  it, 
became  an  emporium  teeming  with  life  and  activity; 
the  same,  on  the  eastern  branch,  that  Suez  has  in  our 
own  time  become  on  the  western  branch  of  the  Red  Sea. 
Beneath  that  line  of  palm-trees  which  now  shelters  the 
wretched  village  of  Akaba,  was  then  heard  the  stir  of 
ship-builders  and  sailors.^  Thence  went  forth  the  fleet 
of  Solomon,  manned  by  Tyrian  sailors,^  on  its  myste- 
rious voyage  — to  Ophir,  in  the  far  East,  on  the  shores 
of  India  or  Arabia.  From  Arabia  also,  near  or  distant, 

1 1 Kings  X.  28.  3 Jer.  xli.  1 7. 

2 Ibid.  iv.  26,  27.  For  40,000  in  1 Kings  ix.  26. 

ver.  26,  Ewald  (iii.  332)  reads  4000  ® Ibid.;  2 Chr.  vlii.  18;  Josephiia, 

or  4200,  from  2 Clir.  ix.  25  ; tliree  Ant.  viii.  6,  § 4. 
horses  for  each  of  the  chariots. 


202 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVI 


came  a constant  traffic  of  spices,  both  from  private  indi- 
viduals and  from  the  chiefs.^  So  great  was  Solomon’s 
interest  in  these  expeditions,  that  he  actually  travelled 
himself  to  the  gulf  of  Akaba  to  see  the  port.^ 

4.  The  mention  of  the  Tyrian  sailors  introduces  us  to 
Relations  another  great  power,  now  allied  with  Israel, 
with  Tyre.  king  of  Tyre,  had  already  been  the 

friend  of  David.  But  he  was  a still  faster  friend  of 
Solomon.  There  is  something  pathetic  in  the  relation- 
ship between  the  old  Phoenician  and  the  young  Israelite, 
a faint  secular  likeness  of  the  romantic  friendship  of 
David  and  Jonathan.  Hiram,  too,  has  shared  in  Solo- 
mon’s glory.  Alone  of  all  the  Tyrian  kings,  his  name 
is  attached  by  popular  tradition  to  a still  existing  monu- 
ment. A gray  weather-beaten  sarcophagus  of  unknown 
antiquity,^  raised  aloft  on  three  huge  rocky  pillars  of 
stone,  looks  down  from  the  hills  above  Tyre  over  the 
city  and  harbor,  and  still  is  called  the  Tomb  of 
Hiram.”  The  traditions  of  this  alliance  lingered  in 
both  kingdoms.  Tyrian  historians  ^ long  recollected  the 
interchange  of  riddles  between  the  two  sovereigns. 
The  Tyrian  archives,  even  as  late  as  the  Christian  era, 
were  supposed  to  contain  copies  of  the  many  letters 
which  had  passed.  Two  of  these  ^ are  preserved,  written 
on  the  occasion  of  an  embassy  from  Hiram,  sent  to 
anoint,  or  take  part  in  the  anointing,  of  Solo- 
mon.® Hiram  supplied  Tyrian  architects  and 
timber  from  Mount  Lebanon  for  Solomon’s  temple. 
Solomon  visited  Hiram  at  Tyre,  and  was  even  supposed 
to  have  worshipped  in  a Sidonian  temple.’'  He  gave  to 

1 1 Kings  X.  15,  25.  * 1 Kings  v.  2-9.  They  are  given 

2 2 Chr.  viii.  1 7.  in  slightly  different  forms  in  JosephtfS, 

3 Eusebius,  Procp.  Ev.  ix.  31.  Ant.  viii.  2,  §§  6,  7. 

* Dios  and  Menander,  quoted  by  6 Ibid.  v.  1 (LXX.). 

JoHeplius,  Atil.  viii.  5,  § .‘t  ; c.  Apion.  7 Justin,  Dial  c.  Tryph.  c 34. 

i.  17,  18.  See  Lecture'  XXVIII. 


Lect.  XXVI. 


ITS  EXTERNAL  RELATIONS. 


203 


Hirani  the  district  of  Galilee,  on  the  borders  of  Tyre, 
which  in  the  name  of  Cabul”  (or  ^^Gabul”)  preserved 
a recollection  of  the  humorous  complaint  of  King 
Hiram  to  his  royal  brother  for  having  given  him  the 

offscourings  ” of  his  dominions.^  In  its  later  name  of 
^Hhe  boundaries  of  Tyre  and  Sidon/’^  long  after  the 
extinction  of  the  Phoenician  power,  it  retained  a remi- 
niscence of  the  ancient  friendship. 

But  the  main  result  of  the  alliance  was  in  the  ex- 
tension of  the  commerce  of  both  countries.  Expedi- 
Tyrian  sailors  were  supplied  to  the  fleet  of 
Solomon,  starting,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  Red  Sea. 
But  there  was  a direct  union  in  the  Mediterranean  also. 
Not  only  was  there  a navy  of  Ophir,  that  is,  of  the 
extreme  east,  but  there  was  also,  in  express  conjunction 
with  the  navy  of  Hiram,  a navy  of  Tarshish,  that  is,  of 
the  extreme  west.^ 

Without  entering  into  the  tangled  question  of  the 
details  of  the  two  Hebrew  texts  which  record  the  desti- 
nation of  the  fleets,^  we  may  dwell  on  the  return  of 
the  voyagers,  as  they  are  described,  with  their  marvel- 
lous articles  of  commerce,  from  west  and  east,  — gold 
and  silver,  alinug,  ivory,  aloes,  cassia,  cinnamon,  apes,  and 
peacocks, 

1 1 Kings  ix.  12,  13.  4 The  arguments  for  a Western 

2 Matt.  XV.  21.  expedition  may  be  seen  in  Keil ; for 

3 This  argument  is  based  rather  on  an  Eastern,  in  Thenius.  The  two 

the  distinct  and  separate  mention  of  theories  may  be  united  by  supposing 
the  fleets  of  Ophir  and  of  Tarshish,  a circumnavigation  of  Africa,  in  be- 
than  on  the  mere  use  of  the  word  half  of  which  is  the  three  years,  1 
“ ships  of  Tarshish”  (1  Kings  x.  22),  Kings  x.  22,  and  in  Herod,  iv.  42,  and 
or  t,we  expression  “ to  Tarshish,”  in  the  intimation  in  Pharaoh  Necho’s 
2 Chr.  ix.  21,  xx.  36,  of  which  latter  Voyage  (ibid.),  that  it  was  not  the 
nassage  the  force  is  destroyed  by  its  first  time.  Tlie  expedition  may  some- 
occurrence  in  a context  which  re-  times  have  gone  from  E?ion-geber, 
piires  Ophir  as  the  destination.  sometimes  from  Tyre. 


204 


THE  EMl’IRE  OF  SOLOMON 


Lect.  XXVI. 


The  abundance  of  silver  ” probably  came  from  the 
silver  mines  of  Spain.  The  apes  may  possibly  have 
come  from  that  one  spot  where  they  exist  in  Europe, 
our  own  rock  of  Gibraltar.  Africa  was  the  great  gold 
country  of  the  ancient  world,  and  may  also  have  fur- 
nished the  elephants’  tusks. 

But  some  of  the  articles  themselves  and  the  names 
of  more  point  directly  to  India.  Ophir,^  the  seat  of  the 
gold,  may  be  directly  identified  with  the  gold  mines  of 
Sumatra  and  Malacca.  The  almug  or  algmn  is  the  He- 
braized form  of  a Deccan  word  for  sandal-wood,  and  san- 
dal-wood grows  only  on  the  coast  of  Malabar,  south  of 
Goa.  The  word  for  ape — capV  or  ^^Jcoph^^  whence  the 
Greek  kehos  — is  the  usual  Sanscrit  word  for  a monkey. 
TJmJcigim,  the  name  for  peacocks,^  is  a Sanscrit  word  with 
a Malabar  accent,  and  the  peacock  is  indigenous  in  India, 
and  probably  had  not  yet  had  time  to  extend  into  the 
west,  as  it  afterwards  did  from  the  sanctuary  of  Juno  at 
Samos.  The  word  used  for  the  tusks  ^ of  elephants  is 
nearly  the  same  in  Sanscrit ; and  the  fragrant  woods 
and  spices,  called  aloes, ^ cassia^  and  cinnamon^  are  all, 
either  by  name  or  by  nature,  connected  with  India 
and  Ceylon. 


^ The  argument  in  favor  of  the 
Indian  position  of  Ophir,  as  well  as 
the  Indian  origin  of  these  words,  is 
stated  by  Ritter,  Sinai,  pp.  148-431  ; 
Max  Muller,  in  Science  of  Languages, 
p.  214.  The  argument  In  favor  of  Its 
African,  and  still  more  of  Its  Arabic, 
position,  is  stated  by  Mr.  Twisleton 
in  the  Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  Ophir. 

2 Peacocks  are  kej)t  in  the  gardens 
of  the  81;ah  of  Per.sia  (Morler). 

3 /bba  and  Sben  Ilabhim. 

^ By  a iikencs.s  of  sound  translated 


from  “A/mZtm”  (Ps.  xlv.  8;  Prov. 
vii.  17;  Cant.  iv.  14),  a fi'agrant  tree 
of  Malacca  — agila,  hence  agellodua- 
cum,  aquileca  — eagle  wood.  The  only 
non-Solomonian  passage  where  the 
word  occurs  is  Num.  xxiv.  6,  in  speak- 
ing of  the  gardens  of  the  Euphrates. 

s Ps.  xlv.  8,  Katzioth,  Indian  koost. 

® Prol)ably  cacyn-nama  from  Cey- 
lon— Prov.  vii.  17;  Cant.  iv.  14; 
also  in  Arabia,  Ex.  xxx.  13  (comp. 
Ilerod.  lii.  Ill);  and  Tyre,  Ezek. 
xxvli.  10.  S(‘e  also  Exod.  xxx.  23. 


Lect.  XXVI.  ITS  EXTERNAL  RELATIONS.  205 

Let  US  for  a moment  contemplate  the  extraordinary 
interest  of  these  voyages  for  their  own  and  for  all  future 
times. 

An  admirable  passage  in  Mr.  Froude’s  history^  of 
Elizabeth  describes  the  revolution  effected  in  England 
when  the  maritime  tendency  of  the  nation  for  the  first 
time  broke  through  the  rigid  forms  in  which  it  had 
hitherto  been  confined.  Much  more  marvellous  must 
have  been  the  revolution  effected  by  this  sudden  dis- 
ruption of  the  barriers  by  which  the  sea  now  became 
familiar  to  the  secluded  inland  Israelites.  Shut  out 
from  the  Mediterranean  by  the  insufficiency  of  the 
ports  of  Palestine,  and  from  the  Indian  Ocean  by  the 
Arabian  desert,  only  by  these  extensive  alliances  and 
enterprises  could  they  become  accustomed  to  it.  We 
know  not  when  the  Psalms  were  written  which  contain 
the  allusions  to  the  wonders  of  the  sea,  and  which  b^’ 
these  have  become  endeared  to  a maritime  empire  like 
our  own  ; but,  if  not  composed  in  the  reign  of  Solomon, 
at  least  they  are  derived  from  the  stimulus  which  he 
gave  to  nautical  discovery.  The  104th  Psalm  seems 
almost  as  if  it  had  been  written  by  one  of  the  superin* 
tendents  of  the  deportations  of  timber  from  the  heights 
of  Lebanon.  The  mountains,  the  springs,  the  cedars, 
l!ie  sea  in  the  distance,  with  its  ships  and  monster  brood, 
are  combined  in  that  landscape  as  nowhere  else.^  The 
107th  describes,  with  the  feeling  of  one  who  had  been 
at  sea  himself,  the  sensations  of  those  who  went  down 
from  the  hills  of  Judah  to  the  ships  of  Jaffa,  and  to 
their  business  in  the  great  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  ; 
the  sudden  storm,  the  rising  to  the  crest  of  the  waves 
as  if  to  meet  the  heavens,  and  then  sinking  down  as  if 


1 History  of  England^  viii.  p,  42G.  pendix,  p.  217,  and  Sinai  and  Pales 

2 See  Sei'mons  in  the  East,  Ap-  tine,  cliapter  xi. 


206 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XX  VX 


into  the  depths  of  the  grave ; the  staggering  to  and 
fro  on  deck,  the  giddiness  and  loss  of  thought  and 
sense ; and  to  this,  in  the  Book  of  Proverbs,  is  added 
a notice  rare  in  any  ancient  writings,  unique  in  the 
Hebrew  Scriptures,  of  the  well-known  signs  of  sea- 
sickness ; where  the  drunkard  is  Avarned  that  if  he 
tarries  long  at  the  wine,  he  shall  be  reduced  to  the 
wretched  state  of  him  that  lieth  down  in  the 
midst  of  the  sea,  or  as  he  that  lieth  down  before  the 
rudder.”  ^ 

Not  only  were  these  routes  of  commerce  continued 
through  the  Tyrian  merchants  into  Central  Asia,  and 
by  the  Bed  Sea,  till  the  foundation  of  Alexandria,  but 
the  record  of  them  awakened  in  Columbus  the  keen 
desire  to  reopen  by  another  way  the  wonders  Avhich 
Solomon  had  first  revealed.  When  Sopora  in  Hayti 
became  known,  it  was  believed  to  be  the  long-lost  Ophir. 
When  the  mines  of  Peru  Avere  explored,  they  were  be- 
lieA^ed  to  contain  the  gold  of  Parvaim.  The  very  name 
of  the  West  Indies  given  by  Columbus  to  the  islands 
where  first  he  landed,  is  a memorial  of  his  fixed  belief 
that  he  had  reached  the  coast  of  those  Indies  in  the 
Eastern  world  Avhich  had  been  long  ago  discovered  by 
Solomon. 

Imagine  too  the  arrival  of  those  strange  plants  and 
animals  enlivening  the  monotony  of  Israelitish  life ; the 
brilliant  metals,  the  fragrant  Avoods,  the  gorgeous  pea- 
cock, the  chattering  ape  — to  that  inland  people,  rare 
as  the  first  products  of  America  to  the  inhabitants  of 
Europe.  Observe  the  glimpse  given  to  us,  into  those 
remote  regions,  here  seen  for  an  instant.  Now  for  the 
first  time  Europe  was  open  to  the  view  of  the  chosen 
people,  — Spain,  the  Peru  of  the  old  world,  Spain,  Tar- 

1 Prov.  xxill.  80,  34. 


LilCT.  XX^L  ITS  EXTERNAL  RELATIONS.  ^07 

fcessus,  Cadiz  (the  Kadesh^’  the  westei’n  sanctuary  of 
the  Phoenician  people),  the  old  historic  Straits,  — the 
vast  Atlantic  beyond,  — possibly  our  own  islands,  our 
own  Cornish  coasts,  which  had  already  sent  the  produce 
of  their  mines  into  the  heart  of  Asia,  — were  seen  by 
the  eyes  of  Israelites.  And  on  the  other  side  the  inven- 
tory of  the  articles  brought  in  Solomon’s  fleets,  gives 
us  the  first  distinct  knowledge  of  that  venerable  San- 
scrit^ tongue,  the  sacred  language  of  primeval  India, 
the  parent  language  of  European  civilization.  In  the 
thousandth  year  before  the  Christian  era,  v/e  see  that 
it  not  only  was  in  existence,  but  already  had  begun  to 
decay.  The  forms  of  speech  which  the  sailors  of  Hiram 
heard  on  the  coast  of  Malabar  are  no  longer  the  pure 
Sanscrit  of  earlier  days.  In  these  rude  terms,  the  more 
interesting  on  this  account,  thus  embedded  in  the 
records  of  the  Hebrew  nation,  we  grasp  the  first  links 
of  the  union  between  the  Aryan  and  the  Semitic  races. 

And  finally,  not  only  in  this  philological  and  prospec- 
tive sense,  but  in  the  true  historical  and  religious  sense, 
was  this  union  of  the  East  and  the  West,  of  remote 
Asia  and  of  remote  Europe,  in  the  highest  degree  sig- 
nificant for  the  development  of  Israel.  United  then  in 
Palestine,  as  they  were  united  nowhere  else  in  the 
ancient  world,  there  was  thus  realized  the  first  pos- 
sibility of  their  final  amalgamation  in  Christendom. 
The  horizon  first  framed  in  the  time  of  Solomon,  after 
being  again  and  again  contracted,  has  now  even  in  out- 
ward form  reached  even  beyond  its  old  limits  of  Ophir 
and  Tarshish,  and  much  more  in  the  combination  of  in- 
ward moral  qualities  which  mark  the  Christian  Religion. 
Christianity  alone,  of  all  Religions,  is  on  the  one  hand 
Oriental  by  its  birth,  and  yet  capable  of  becoming 

1 Max  Muller,  Lectures  on  Science  oj  Languages,  i.  144. 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON.  Leot.  XXVI 

Western  by  its  spirit  and  its  energy.  “^^The  kings  of 
’^Tarshish  and  the  isles  shall  bring  presents  (from  the 
^^West);  the  kings  of  Sheba  and  Saba  shall  offer  gifts 
(from  the  East).  For  all  kings  shall  fall  down  before 
him  ; all  nations  shall  serve  him.”  ^ So  it  was  said  al- 
ready in  the  days  of  Solomon  • and  in  a still  wider 
sense,  and  with  a still  more  direct  application  to  the 
gathering  together  of  these  diverse  elements  in  the 
Messiah’s  reign,  was  the  strain  taken  up  by  the  later 
Prophet,  — in  language  which,  though  entirely  his  own, 
could  never  have  been  suggested  to  him,  except  through 
the  imagery  of  the  Empire  of  Solomon.  After  an- 
nouncing how  the  treasures  of  the  world  were  to  come 
to  Jerusalem,  — ^^The  abundance  of  the  sea  shall  be 
converted  unto  thee,  the  forces  of  the  Gentiles  shall 
come  unto  thee,”  — he  turns,  on  the  one  hand  to  the 
East : — The  multitude  of  camels  shall  cover  thee,  the 
dromedaries  of  Midian  and  Ephah ; all  they  from 
Sheba  shall  come : they  shall  bring  gold  and  incense. 
‘‘.  . . All  the  flocks  of  Kedar  shall  be  gathered  to 
thee,  the  rams  of  Nebaioth  shall  minister  unto  thee ; 
“ they  shall  come  up  with  acceptance  upon  mine  altar ; ” 
and  on  the  other  hand,  to  the  far  West:  — ^^Who  are 
these  that  fly  as  a cloud,  and  as  the  doves  to  tlieir 
windows  ? Surely  the  isles  shall  wait  for  me,  and  the 
‘ ships  of  Tarshish  first,  to  bring  their  sons  from  far, 
their  silver  and  gold  with  them.  . . . And  the  sons 
of  strangers  shall  build  up  thy  walls,  and  their  kings 
shall  minister  unto  thee.  . . . Therefore  thy  gates 
“ shall  be  open  continually  ; they  shall  not  be  shut  day 
nor  night.”  ^ This  is  the  latitude  of  the  Old  Dispen- 
Bation,  containing  in  germ  the  still  wider  latitude  of  the 
New. 


1 See  Ps.  Ixxii.  iv.  11. 


2 Jsaicih  lx.  5-11. 


Ljsct.  XXVI. 


ITS  INTERNAL  CONDITION. 


209 


II.  From  the  external  Empire  of  Solomon  we  pass  to 
the  internal  state  of  his  dominions.  It  has  internal 
been  already  observed  that  the  Hebrew  people, 
unlike  other  ancient  nations,  did  not  place  their  golden 
age  in  the  remote  past,  but  rather  in  the  remote  future. 
But,  so  far  as  there  was  any  historical  period  in  which 
it  seemed  to  be  realized,  it  was  under  the  administration 
of  Solomon.  The  general  tone  of  the  records  of  his 
reign  is  that  of  jubilant  delight,  as  though  it  were  in- 
deed a golden  day  following  on  the  iron  and  brazen 
age  of  the  warlike  David  and  his  half-civilized  predeces- 
sors. The  heart  of  the  poets  of  the  age  overflows  with 
the  beautiful  words  ” ^ of  loyal  delight.  The  royal 
justice  and  benevolence  are  like  the  welcome  showers 
in  the  thirsty  East.  The  poor,  for  once,  are  cared  for. 
The  very  tops  of  the  bare  mountains  seem  to  wave 
with  corn,  as  on  the  fertile  slopes  of  Lebanon.^ 

And  with  this  poetic  description  of  the  peace  and 
plenty  with  which  the  rugged  hills  of  Palestine  were  to 
smile,  agrees  the  hardly  less  poetic  description  of  the 
prose  narrative.  Judah  and  Israel,”  both  divisions  of 
the  people,  now  for  the  last  time  united  in  one,  “ were 
‘^many,  as  the  sand  which  is  by  the  sea  in  multitude; 

eating  and  drinking,  and  making  merry.  . . . Judah 
^^and  Israel  dwelt  safely,  every  man  under  his  own 
vine  ” (that  is,  the  vine  that  clustered  round  his  court) 
^^and  under  his  own  fig-tree”  (that  is,  the  fig  which 
grew  in  his  garden),  from  Dan  even  to  Beersheba,  all 
‘Hhe  days  of  Solomon.”^  The  wealth  which  he  inher- 
ited from  David,  and  which  he  acquired  from  liis  own 
revenue,  whether  from  commerce  or  from  the  royal 

1 Ps.  xlv.  1 (Heb.)  ; 1 assume  this  2 Ixxii.  2,  5,  6,  7,  13,  16. 

as  the  most  probable  date  of  the  3 i Kings  iv.  20-25. 

Psalm.  (See  Perowne.) 

VOL.  II.  14 


210 


THE  EMPIRE  OE  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVI 


domains,  and  from  taxes  ^ and  tributes,  is  described  as 
enormous.  So  plentiful  was  gold  that  silver  was  noth- 
‘^ing  accounted  of  in  the  days  of  Solomon.”^  And  of 
a like  strain  is  the  joyous  little  hymn,  ascribed  to  Solo- 
mon, which  describes  the  increase,  the  vigor,  the  glory 
of  the  rising  and  ever-multiplying  population,  — the 
peaceful  ease  of  all  around,  where  it  is  but  lost  labor  to 
rise  up  early,  and  sit  down  late,  and  eat  the  bread  of 
carefulness ; ” where  blessings  seem  to  descend  even  on 
the  unconscious  sleeper,  — where  the  children  are  shot 
to  and  fro  as  the  most  powerful  of  all  weapons  from  the 
bows  of  irresistible  archers.^  The  very  names  of  the 
two  successors  under  whom  this  flourishing  state  was 
disordered,  seem  to  bear  witness  to  the  abundance  and 
brightness  of  the  days  when  they  were  born  and  bred 
. — Rehoboam,  ^Hhe  widening  of  the  people”  — Jero- 
boam, the  multiplier  of  the  people.” 

For  this  altered  state  of  things  a new  organization  was 
needed.  Although  the  offices  of  the  court  were  gener- 
ally the  same  as  those  in  David’s  time,  the  few  changes 
that  occur  are  significant  of  the  advance  in  splendor  and 
order. 

The  great  officers  are  now  for  the  first  time  called  by 
Court  of  general  name — ''  Princes,”^ — a title  which 

Solomon,  before  had  been  almost  confined  to  Joab.  The 
union  of  priestly  and  secular  functions  still  continued. 
Zabud,  ''the  King’s  friend,”  is  called  a priest^  no  less 
than  Azariah,  the  son  of  Zadok.  But  on  the  other  hand 


1  1 Kings  X.  14,  666  talents  of  gold. 
Possibly  (as  Professor  Plinn{)tre  makes 
it)  the  first  suggestion  of  the  mystical 
number  of  Rev.  xiii.  18.  The  treas- 
by  David  for  building  the 
Temple>siii  1 Chr.  xxix.  1-7,  amount. 


it  is  computed,  to  eight  millions  ster- 
ling. 

2 1 Kings  X.  21. 

3 Ps.  exxvii.  2,  4. 

4 Shnrim,  1 Kings  iv.  2. 

5 Ibid,  {Cohen,  A.  V.  “principal 
officer”). 


L*ct  XXVI. 


ITS  INTERNAL  STATE. 


211 


the  name  is  not  extended,  as  in  David’s  court,  to  the 
royal  family ; thus  perhaps  indicating  that  the  division 
of  the  two  functions  was  gradually  becoming  percep- 
tible. Instead  of  the  one  scribe  or  secretary,  there 
were  now  two,  Elihoreph  or  Eliaph,  and  Ahijah,  sons  of 
the  old  scribe  Shisha.^  The  two  ^^counsellors,”  who 
occupied  so  important  a place  by  David,  now  disappear. 
Probably  the  counsellors  were  so  increased  in  number 
as  to  form  a separate  body  in  the  state,  as  in  the  next 
reign  there  was  a band  of  aged  advisers,  known  as 
^Hhose  who  had  stood  before  Solomon.”^  The  Prophets 
cease  to  figure  amongst  the  dignitaries ; as  though  the 
prophetical  office  had  been  overborne  by  the  royal  dig- 
nity. The  Chief  Priesthood,  as  we  have  seen,  was  con- 
centred in  Zadok  alone,  and  from  him  descended  a pecu- 
liar hierarchy,  known  by  the  name  of  sons  of  Zadok,* 
the  possible  origin  (whether  from  their  first  ancestor’s 
opinions,  or  from  a traditionary  adherence  to  the  old 
Law)  of  the  later  sect  of  the  Sadducees. 

The  three  military  bodies  seem  to  have  remained 
unchanged.  The  commander  of  the  host  ” is 
the  priestly  warrior  Benaiah,  who  succeeded 
the  murdered  J oab.  The  six  hundred  heroes  of  David’s 
early  life  only  once  pass  across  the  scene.  Sixty  of 
them,  their  swords  as  of  old  girt  on  their  thighs,  at- 
tended Solomon’s  litter,  to  guard  him  from  banditti  on 
his  way  to  Lebanon.^  The  guard  appear  only  as  house- 
hold troops,  employed  on  state  pageants,  and  appar- 
ently commanded  by  the  officer^  now  mentioned  for  the 

1 1 Kings  iv  3.  xlli.  19,  &c.  See  Mr.  Twisleton  on 

8 Ibid.  xii.  6.  Jerome  mentions  Sadducp:es,  in  Diet,  of  the  Bible,  p 
(Queest.  Ilehr.  on  2 Chr.  x.  6)  as  1085. 
amongst  them,  Benaiah  and  Jehiel,  ^ Cant.  iii.  7,  8. 
the  tutors  ot'  the  Princes.  5 x Kings  xlv.  27. 

3 2 Chr.  xxxi.  10;  Ez.  xl.  46; 


212 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect  XXVI 


first  time,  a fc  least  in  the  full  magnitude  of  his  post 
He  was  over  the  household,”  in  fact  the  Yizier,  and 
keeper  of  the  royal  treasury^  and  armory.^  In  subse- 
puent  reigns  he  is  described  as  wearing  an  official  robe, 
girt  about  with  an  official  girdle,  and  carrying  on  his 
shoulder  as  a badge,  like  a sword  of  state,  the  gigantic 
key  of  the  house  of  David.^  Tlie  office  was  held  by 
Ahishar.^  In  the  Arabian  legends  it  is  given  to  the 
great  musician,  Asaph.® 

The  only  two  functionaries  who  retained  their  places 
from  David’s  time  were  J ehoshaphat,  the  historiographer 
or  recorder,  and  Adoram  or  Adoniram,  the  tax-col- 
lector.® These  were  probably  appointed  when  very 
young,  at  the  time  when  David’s  reign  was  gradually 
settling  into  the  peaceful  arrangements  of  later  times. 

The  word^  which  elsewhere  is  used  for  the  garrisons 
Admmistra-  planted  in  a hostile  country,  is  now  employed 
omon.  for  officers  ” appointed  by  the  King  of  Israel 
over  his  own  subjects.  They  were  divided  into  two 
bodies,  both  alike,  as  it  would  seem,  directed  by  a new 
dignitary,  who  also  appears  for  the  first  time, — Azariah, 
son  of  the  Prophet  Nathan,  who  was  over  the 
‘‘officers.”® 

The  lesser  body  consisted  of  twelve  chiefs,  in  number 
corresponding  to  the  twelve  princes  of  the  twelve 
tribes,  who  had  administered  the  kingdom  under  David, 
and  to  the  twelve  surveyors  of  his  pastures  and  herds.® 

1 Isa.  xxil.  15.  in  2 Sam.  vili.  6,  14,  1 Kings  xxii.  47, 

2 1 Kings  xiv.  27.  1 Clir.  xviii.  13,  2 Chr.  xvii.  2,  for 

3 Isa.  xxii.  21,  22.  Israelite  garrisons),  are  used  in  1 

* 1 Kings  iv.  6 (LXX.  adds  Eliak).  Kings  iv.  5,  7,  19,  27,  ix.  23,  2 Chr. 

5 DTIerbelot,  art.  Assaf.  viii.  10,  for  the  olHcers  of  Solomon. 

* 1 Kings  iv.  3,  6 ; xii.  18.  The  Hebrew  term  answers  in  some 

7 Netsib,  and  Nitssab  (used  in  1 degree  to  the  English  word  “ post.” 

Sam.  x.  5,  xiii.  3,  4,  1 Chr.  xi.  16,  for  8 i Kings  iv.  5. 

Philistine  garrisons  in  Judea;  and  ® Ibid.  7;  1 Chr.  xxvii.  16-31. 


Lkct  XXVI. 


ITS  INTERNAL  STATE. 


218 


It  is  to  the  latter  division  that  the  twelve  officers  ” 
of  Solomon  corresponded,  as  they  were  arranged  not 
according  to  the  tribal  divisions,  and  as  their  sole  func- 
tion was  to  furnish  provisions  for  the  royal  household. 
Two  of  them  were  sons-in-law  of  the  King.^ 

The  larger  body  of  officers  ” were  chosen  from  the' 
Israelites,  to  control  the  taskwork  exacted  from  the 
Canaanite  population.^  The  foreign  populations  within 
his  dominions  were,  after  the  first  ineffectual  attempt 
at  insurrection,  completely  cowed.  The  Hittite  chiefs 
were  allowed  to  keep  up  a kind  of  royal  state,  with 
horses  and  chariots  but  the  population  generally  was 
employed,  like  the  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  Greece,  on 
public  works,  and  was  heavily  taxed.^  Several  impor- 
tant fortresses  were  created  to  keep  them  in  check; 
one  in  the  extreme  north,  in  the  old  Canaanite  capital 
of  Hazor : a second  in  the  Canaanite  town  of  Megiddo, 
commanding  the  plain  of  Esdraelon ; a third  on  the 
ruins  of  the  Philistine  city  of  Gaza,  which  had  main- 
tained its  independence  longest  of  all ; two  in  the 
villages  of  Bethhoron  at  the  upper  and  lower  ends  of 
the  pass  of  that  name,  and  one  at  Baalath  or  Kirjath- 
jearim.  The  three  last-named  forts  commanded  the 
approaches  from  Sharon  and  Philistia  to  Jerusalem.® 
From  the  Canaanite  bondmen  were  probably  de- 
scended the  degraded  class,  standing  last  in  the  list  of 
those  who  returned  from  Babylon, — -^Ghe  children  of 
Solomon’s  slaves.”  ® They  were  apparently  employed 
in  the  quarries,  as  those  who  appear  next  above  them 
the  Nethinim,  were  in  the  forests. 

1 1 Kings  iv.  11,  15.  5 i Kings  ix.  15-18;  2 Chr  viii 

2 Ibid.  ix.  23  ; 2 Chr.  viii.  10.  4-6. 

3 1 Kings  X.  29.  6 Ezra.  ii.  55;  Neh.  vii.  57.  Se« 

* Ibid.  ix.  20,  21.  Professor  Plumptre,  in  the  THctionary 

of  the  Bible. 


214 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVI 


The  public  works  of  Solomon  were  such  as  of  them- 
selves  to  leave  an  impress  on  his  age.  Of  his  doubtful 
connection  with  Tadmor  and  Baalbec  we  have  already 
spoken.  But  there  is  no  question  of  those  more  imme- 
diately connected  with  his  court  and  his  residence. 

Jerusalem  itself  received  a new  life  from  his  accession. 
^ ^ It  has  even  been  conjectured  that  the  name 

first  became  fixed  through  his  influence ; being, 
in  its  latter  part,  an  echo,  as  it  were,  of  his  own  — 

peace.”  When  the  Greeks  gave  their  form  to  the 
name,  they  were  guided  by  a remembrance  of  his  name. 

Hierosolyma,”  in  their  estimate,  was  the  Hieron  ” or 
Temple  of  Solomon.^  In  any  case  Jerusalem  now 
assumed  the  dimensions  and  the  splendor  of  a capital. 
It  became  the  centre  of  the  commercial  routes  before 
mentioned,  and  Jewish  tradition  described^  the  roads 
leading  into  Jerusalem,  marked,  as  they  ran  over  the 
white  limestone  of  the  country,  by  the  black  basaltic 
stones  of  their  pavement.  The  city  was  enclosed  with 
a new  wall,^  which,  as  the  reign  advanced,  the  King 
increased  in  height  and  fortified  with  vast  towers.  The 
castle  or  city  of  David  was  fortified  by  an  ancient,  per- 
haps Jebusite,  rampart,  known  by  the  name  of  Millo,” 
or  the  house  of  Millo,”  of  which,  possibly,  remains  still 
exist  on  the  west  of  the  Temple  wall.^  The  master  of 
these  works  was  Jeroboam,^  then  quite  a youth. 

Amongst  these  buildings,  the  Palace  of  Solomon  was 
prominent.  It  was  commenced  at  the  same 

The  J)£tl3.CC« 

time  as  the  Temple,  but  not  finished  till  eight 
years  afterwards.  The  occasion  of  its  erection  was  the 

1 Eupolemus,  in  Eusebius,  Preep.  3 i Kings  iii.  1;  ix.  15;  Josephus, 
Ev.  ix.  34.  Ant.  viii.  2,  § 1 ; 6,  § 1. 

3 Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  7,  § 4.  Kings  Ix.  15,  24  ; xi.  27. 

6 Ibid.  xi.  26. 


D*ct.  XXVI. 


ITS  INTERNAL  STATE. 


216 


marriage  of  Solomon  with  the  Egyptian  princess.  She 
resided  at  first  in  the  castle  of  David ; but  the  King  had 
still  a scruple  about  the  reception  of  a heathen,  even 
though  it  were  his  own  Queen,  in  precincts  which  had 
once  been  hallowed  by  the  temporary  sojourn  of  the 
Ark.^ 

The  new  Palace  must  have  been  apart  from  the  castle 
of  David,  and  considerably  below  the  level  of  the  Tem- 
ple-mount. It  was  built  on  massive  substructions  of 
enormous  stones,  carefully  hewn,^  and  was  enclosed 
within  a large  court.  It  included  several  edifices  within 
itself  The  chief  was  a long  hall,  which,  like  the  Temple, 
was  encased  in  cedar ; whence  probably  its  name,  the 
House  of  the  Forest  of  Lebanon.”^  In  front  of  it  ran 
a pillared  portico.  Between  this  portico  and  the  palace 
itself  was  a cedar  porch,  — sometimes  called  the  Tower 
of  David.  In  this  tower,  apparently  hung  over  the 
walls  outside,  were  a thousand  golden  slrields,  which 
gave  the  whole  palace  the  name  of  the  Armory.^ 
With  a splendor  that  outshone  any  like  fortress,  the 
tower  with  these  golden  targets  glittered  far  off  in  the 
sunshine  like  the  tall  neck,  as  it  was  thought,  of  a 
beautiful  bride,  decked  out  after  the  manner  of  the  East, 
with  strings  of  golden  coins.  Five  hundred  of  them 
were  made  by  Solomon’s  orders  for  the  royal  guard, ^ 

1 1 Kings  iii.  1 ; 2 Chr.  viii.  11.  all  nations  hung  on  its  walls  (Ezek. 

2 Ibid.  vii.  9.  xxvii.  10,  11).  In  Rome,  the  temple 

3 Ibid.  vii.  2.  In  like  manner,  the  of  Bellona  was  studded  with  them, 

temple  was  called  “ Lebanon  ” (Re-  In  Athens,  the  round  marks  where 
land,  I'alest.  313).  According  to  they  hung  can  still  be  traced  on  the 
Josephus  (viii.  5,  § 2),  it  was  sculpt-  walls  of  the  Parthenon.  There  were 
ured  with  leafy  trees.  also  arms  hung  round  the  walls  of  the 

* Cant.  iv.  4;  Isa.  xxii.  8;  Ps*  second  Temple  (Josephus,  Ant.  xv. 
/xxvi.  4.  At  Tyre,  the  beauty  of  the  11,  §3). 
nlace  was  thought  to  consist  in  the  ^ 1 Kings  x.  16,  17. 
iplendor  and  variety  of  the  shields 


216 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVI 


but  the  most  interesting  were  the  older  five  hundred, 
which  David  had  carried  off  in  his  Syrian  wars  from  the 
guard  of  Hadadezer/  as  trophies  of  arms  and  ornaments, 
in  which  the  Syrians  specially  excelled.^  It  was  these 
which,  being  regarded  as  spoils  won  in  a sacred  cause, 
gave,  in  all  probability,  occasion  to  the  expression : 
The  shields  of  the  earth  belong  unto  God.”  ® 

This  porch  was  the  gem  and  centre  of  the  whole 
The  porch  Empire  ] and  was  so  much  thought  of  that  a 
and  throne,  Hkeness  to  it  was  erected  in  another 

part  of  the  royal  precinct  for  the  Queen.^  Within  the 
porch  itself  was  to  be  seen  the  King  in  state.^  On  a 
throne  of  ivory,  brought  from  Africa  or  India,  the  throne 
of  many  an  Arabian  legend,  the  Kings  of  Judah  were 
solemnly  seated  on  the  day  of  their  accession.  From  its 
lofty  seat,  and  under  that  high  gateway,  Solomon  and 
his  successors  after  him  delivered  their  solemn  judg- 
ments. That  porch”  or  ‘^gate  of  justice”  still  kept 
alive  the  likeness  of  the  old  patriarchal  custom  of  sitting 
in  judgment  at  the  gate ; exactly  as  the  Gate  of  Justice 
still  recalls  it  to  us  at  Granada,  and  the  Sublime  Porte 
— the  Lofty  Gate  ” at  Constantinople.  He  sat  on  the 
back  of  a golden  bull,  its  head  turned  over  its  shoulder, 
probably  the  ox  or  bull  of  Ephraim ; under  his  feet,  on 
each  side  of  the  steps,  were  six  golden  lions,  probably 
the  lions  of  Judah.®  This  was  ^Hhe  seat  of  judgment.” 
This  was  the  throne  of  the  House  of  David.”  ^ 

His  banquets  were  of  the  most  superb  kind.  All  his 
The  ban-  pHte  and  drinking-vessels  were  of  gold  ; none 
quets.  ^^were  of  silver;  it  was  nothing  accounted  of 

1 2 Sam.  viii.  7 (LXX.).  See  Lee-  6 i Kings  vii.  7. 

ture  XXIII.  6 Ibid.  X.  18-20;  2 Chr.  ix.  17- 

2 Isa.  xxii.  6.  19;  Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  5,  § 2. 

3 Ps.  xlvii.  9.  7 Ps.  exxii.  5. 

4 1 Kings  vii.  8. 


Lbct  XXVI. 


ITS  INTERNAL  STATE. 


217 


in  the  days  of  Solomon.”  ^ His  household  daily  con 
Burned  thirty  oxen,  a hundred  sheep,  besides  game  of  all 
kinds  — harts,  roebucks,  fallow-deer,  and  fatted  fowl,” 
probably  for  his  own  special  table,  from  the  Assyrian 
desert.^  There  was  a constant  succession  of  guests.^ 
One  class  of  them  are  expressly  mentioned,  — Chimham 
and  his  brothers.^  The  train  of  his  servants  was  such 
as  had  never  been  seen  before.  There  were  some  who 
sat  in  his  presence,  others  who  always  stood,  others 
who  were  his  cup-bearers,^  others  musicians.® 

His  stables  were  on  the  most  splendid  scale.  Up  to 
this  time,  except  in  the  extravagant  ambition 

^ o stables 

of  Absalom  and  Adonijah,.  chariots  and  horses 
had  been  all  but  unknown  in  Palestine.  In  the  earlier 
times,  the  ass  had  been  the  only  animal  used,  even  for 
princes.  In  David’s  time,  the  King  and  the  Princes  of 
the  royal  family  rode  on  mules.  But  Solomon’s  inter- 
course mth  Egypt  at  once  introduced  horses  into  the 
domestic  establishment,  cavalry  into  the  army.  For  the 
first  time,  the  streets  of  Jerusalem  heard  the  constant 
rattle  of  chariot  wheels.  Four  thousand  ^ stalls  were 
attached  to  the  royal  palace,  — three  horses  for  each 
chariot,  and  dromedaries  for  the  attendants.  The  quan- 
tity of  oats  and  of  straw  was  so  great  that  special 
officers  were  'appointed  to  collect  it.®  There  was  one 
chariot  of  extraordinary  beauty,^  called  the  chariot  of 
Pharaoh,  in  which  the  horses  with  their  trappings  were 
so  graceful  as  to  be  compared  to  a bride,  in  her  most 
magnificent  ornaments. 

1 1 Kings  X.  21.  5 1 Kings  x.  5. 

2 Ibid.  iv.  22-24 ; x.  5.  6 Eccles.  ii.  8. 

5 Ibid.  iv.  27.  The  golden  table  ^ 40,000  in  1 Kings  iv.  26;  4000 

ttself  was  believed  to  have  been  pre-  or  4200  in  2 Chr.  ix.  25. 
served  in  Spain  by  the  Goths  (Weil,  ® 1 Kings  iv.  28. 

Legends).  9 Cant.  i.  9. 

4 1 Kings  ii.  7. 


218 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVI 


In  the  true  style  of  an  Asiatic  sovereign^  he  estab* 
The  gar-  hshed  wliat  his  successors  on  the  northern 

dens.  throne  of  Israel  afterwards  kept  up  at  Samaria 

and  Jezreel,  but  what  he  alone  attempted  in  the  wild 
hills  of  Judea  — gardens  and  parks  (paradises),  and 
trees  of  all  kinds  of  fruit,  and  reservoirs  of  water  to 
water  the  trees.”  ^ One  of  these  was  probably  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Jerusalem,  the  spot  afterwards^  known 
as  the  king’s  garden,”  at  the  junction  of  the  valleys 
of  Hinnom  and  the  Kedron.  Another  was  south  of 
Bethlehem,  probably  that  called  by  Josephus®  Etham,” 
a spot  still  marked  by  three  gigantic  reservoirs,  which 
bear  the  name  of  the  Pools  of  Solomon.  A long  cov- 
ered aqueduct,  built  by  him,  and  restored  by  Pilate,  still 
runs  along  the  hill-side,  and  conveys  water  to  the 
thirsty  capital.  The  adjoining  valley  (the  Wady  Urtas) 
winds  like  a river,  marked  by  its  unusual  verdure, 
amongst  the  rocky  knolls  of  Judea.  The  huge  square 
mountain  which  rises  near  it  is  probably  the  old  Beth- 
hac-cerem  (^^  House  of  the  Vine  ”),  so  called  from  the 
vineyards  which  Solomon  planted,  as  its  modern  Arabic 
name  Fureidis,  the  little  Paradise,”  must  be  derived 
from  the  Paradise  ” (the  very  word  used  in  the  Book 
of  Ecclesiastes  and  the  Canticles)  of  the  neighboring 
park.  Thither,  at  early  dawn,  according  to  the  Jewish 
tradition,  he  would  drive  out  from  Jerusalem  in  one  of 
his  numerous  chariots,  drawn  by  horses  of  unparalleled 
swiftness  and  beauty,  himself  clothed  in  white,  followed 
by  a train  of  mounted  archers,  all  splendid  youths,  of 
magnificent  stature,  dressed  in  purple,  their  long  black 
hair  flowing  behind  them,  powdered  with  gold  dust, 
which  glittered  in  the  sun,  as  they  galloped  along  after 
their  master.'* 


1 Eccles.  ii.  5. 

2 2 Kinjrs  XXV.  4 ; Neh.  iii.  15. 


3 Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  7,  § 3. 

4 Ibid. 


L*ct.  XXVI. 


ITS  INTERNAL  STATE. 


219 


A third  resort  was  far  away  in  the  north.  On  the 
heights  of  Hermon,  beyond  the  limits  of  Palestine,  look- 
ing over  the  plain  of  Damascus,  in  the  vale  of  Baalbec, 
in  the  vineyards  of  Baal-hamon,  were  cool  retreats  from' 
the  summer  heat.  Thither,  with  pavilions  of  which  the 
splendor  contrasted  with  the  black  tents  of  the  neio-h- 
boring  Arabs,  Solomon  retired.*  ° 

From  Solomon’s  possessions  on  the  northern  heio-hts, 
from  Lebanon,  the  smelt  of  Lebanon,  the  streams  of 
“Leb.anon,  the  tower  of  Lebanon  looking  towards 
“Damascus; ”2  “from  the  top  of  Amana,  from  the  top 
of  ^henir  and  Hermon,  from  the  lions’  dens,  from  the 
“ leopards’  dens,”  on  those  wild  rocks ; from  the  fra- 
grance^ of  “ those  mountains  of  myrrh,  those  hills  of 
“frankincense;”  “the  roes  and  young  harts  on  the 
mountains  of  spices,”  ^ the  spectator  looks  out  over 
the  desert  plain ; a magnificent  cavalcade  approaches 
amidst  the  clouds  of  incense,  — then,  as  now,  burnt  to 
greet  the  approach  of  a mighty  prince.*  “ Who  is  this 
“that  cometh  out  of  the  wilderness  like  pillars  of 
“smoke,  perfumed  with  myrrh  and  frankincense,  with 
“all  powders  of  the  merchant?  Behold  his  litter:  it 
“ IS  Solomon’s.  . . . King  Solomon  hath  made  himself 
“a  palanquin  of  the  wood  of  Lebanon.  He  made  the 
“ pillars  thereof  of  silver,  the  bottom  thereof  of  o-dd. 
“the  covering  of  it  of  purple;  the  centre  of  Tt  Ls 
“wrought  with  beautiful  work  by  the  daughters  of 

^°'^***’  daughters  of  Zion,  and 

behold  King  Solomon.”^ 

In  the  midst  of  this  gorgeous  array  was  the  Sov- 


1 Cant.  iv.  8 ; viiL  11  ; i.  5. 

2 Ibid.  iv.  8,  11,  15  ; vii.  4. 

3 Ibid.  iv.  6,  8 ; viii.  14. 

^ See  Ginsburg  on  Cant. 


iii.  6. 


A like  incident  occurred  on  the  en- 
trance of  the  Prince  of  Wales  into 
BeyrQt. 

® Cant.  iii.  6-11. 


220 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVI 


ereign  himself.  The  King  is  fair,  with  superhuman 
beauty  — his  sword  is  on  his  thigh ' he 
The  King  chariot,'  or  on  his  warhorse;  his 

archers  are  behind  him,  his  guards  are  round  him  ; his 
throne  is  like  the  throne  of  God ; his  sceptre  is  in  his 
iiand.  He  wears  the  crown,  which,  as  still  in  Eastern 
marriages,  his  mother  placed  upon  his  head  in  the  day 
of  his  ^espousals ; he  is  radiant  as  if  with  the  oil  and 
essence  of  gladness ; his  robes  are  so  scented  with  the 
perfumes  of  India  or  Arabia  that  they  seem  to  be  noth- 
ing but  a mass  of  myrrh,^  aloes,  and  cassia ; out  of  his 
palaces*  comes  a burst  of  joyous  music,  of  men-singers 
and  women-singers,^  the  delights  of  the  sons  of  men, 

musical  instruments  of  all  sorts. 

The  Queen,  probably  from  Egypt,  the  chief  of  all 
his  vast  establishment  of  wives  and  concubines, 

.nd  Queen.  the  daughters  of  kings,  was  by  Ms 

side,  glittering  in  the  gold  of  Ophir ; one  blaze  of  glory,® 
as  she  sat  by  him  in  the  interior  of  the  palace ; the 
gifts  of  the  princely  state  of  Tyre  are  waiting  to  wel- 
come her;  her  attendants  gorgeously  arrayed  are 
behind  her;  she  has  left  her  father  and  her  father’s 
house ; her  reward  is  to  be  in  the  greatness  of  her 
descendants. 

Such  is  the  splendor  of  Solomon’s  court,  which,  even 
down  to  the  outward  texture  of  their  royal  robes, 
lived  in  the  traditions  of  Israel.  When  Christ  bade  His 
disciples  look  on  the  bright  scarlet  and  gold  of  the 
spring  flowers  of  Palestine,  which  “ toil  not,  neither  do 
nhey  spin,”  He  carried  back  their  thoughts  to  the 
great  King,  “ Solomon,”  who,  “ in  all  his  glory  w.'is  not 


1 Ps.  xlv.  3.  Like  those  of  his  at- 
tendants, Cant  ill.  8. 

Ps.  xlv  8 (Perowne). 


3 Ps.  xlv.  9 (Perowne). 

4 Eccles.  ii.  8. 

5 Ps.  xlv.  13  (Perowne). 


Lect.  XXVI. 


ITS  INTERNAL  STATE. 


221 


arrayed  like  one  of  these.”  ^ He  had  no  mightier  com- 
parison to  use;  He  Himself — we  maybe  allowed  to 
say  so,  for  we  feel  it  as  we  read  His  words  — was  moved 
by  the  recollection  to  the  same  thrill  of  emotion  which 
the  glory  of  Solomon  still  awakens  in  us. 

1 Matt  vi.  29, 


NOTE  TO  LECTURE  XXVII. 


In  the  following  Lecture  on  the  Temple,  the  authorilies  are:  — 

1 Kings  vi. — vili. ; 2 Chr.  Hi.  — vii. ; Ezek.  xl — xlvi. ; Josephus,  JnL  viii. 
6 and  4 ; and  (though  chiefly  relating  to  the  second  Temple)  the  Tract  Mid- 
ioth  in  the  Mishna. 

The  modern  works  on  the  subject  are  too  numerous  to  cite.  But  I wish  to 
express  my  obligations  for  the  oral  assistance  given  me  by  Professor  Willis  of 
Cambridge,  in  the  general  idea  of  the  Temple ; and  also  by  a former  pupil, 
the  Rev.  AV.  H.  Lowder,  particularly  in  regard  to  the  illustrations  to  be 
derived  from  the  descriptions  in  Ezekiel. 


bKOTUEE  XXVII. 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 

Of  all  the  monuments  of  the  internal  administration 
of  Solomon,  none  is  to  be  compared  in  itself, 

* 1 n 1 Temple. 

or  in  its  effect  on  the  future  character  of  the 
people,  with  the  building  of  the  Temple.  It  was  far 
more  than  a mere  architectural  display.  It  supplied  the 
framework  of  the  history  of  the  kingdom  of  Judah. 
As  in  the  Grecian  tragedies  we  always  see  in  the  back- 
ground the  gate  of  Mycenm,  so  in  the  story  which  we 
are  now  to  traverse,  we  must  always  have  in  view  the 
Temple  of  Solomon.  There  is  hardly  any  reign  which 
is  not  in  some  way  connected  with  its  construction  or 
its  changes.  In  front  of  the  great  church  of  the  Escurial 
in  Spain,  — in  the  eyes  of  Spaniards  itself  a likeness  of 
the  Temple,  — overlooking  the  court  called  from  them 
the  Court  of  the  Kings,  are  six  colossal  statues  of  the 
kings  of  Judah,  who  bore  the  chief  part  in  the  Temple 
of  Jerusalem:  — David,  the  Proposer;  Solomon,  the 
Founder;  Jehoshaphat,  Hezekiah,  Josiah,  Manasseh, 
the  successive  Purifiers  and  Restorers.  The  idea  there 
so  impressively  graven  in  stone  runs  through  the  sub- 
sequent history,  and  requires  a brief  description  of  the 
first  appearance  of  this  new  scene  of  sacred  occurrences. 

Like  all  great  works,  it  was  the  result  of  a long  suc- 
cession of  events.  Ever  since  the  return  of  the  Ark 
from  the  captivity  in  Philistia,  the  idea  of  a permanent 
building  for  its  reception  had  been  growing  familiar. 

V<»L.  II.  15 


226 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVII. 


The  mere  fact  of  its  separation  from  its  ancient  habita- 
tion in  the  Sacred  Tent,  had  necessitated  its  accommo- 
dation within  the  walls  of  a housed  The  house  ” of 
Abinadab  first,  and  of  Obed-edom  afterwards,  became, 
as  it  were,  little  temples  for  its  reception.  When  Jebus 
was  conquered  by  David,  his  first  thought  was  to  find 
out  a place  for  the  Lord ; a habitation  for  the  Mighty 
One  of  Jacob.”  ^ The  new  capital  was  the  fitting  place 
for  the  new  sanctuary.  The  ark  was  accordingly 
brought  to  Mount  Zion.  But  here  the  design  was 
suspended.  David  belonged  to  the  earlier  warlike  and 
nomadic  epoch.  The  fulfilment  of  his  design  was 
reserved  for  his  peaceful  son. 

Still,  two  definite  steps  were  taken  towards  it.  First, 
in  consequence  of  the  vision  which  connected  the  hill 
with  the  name  of  Moriah,”  the  threshing-floor  of  Arau- 
nah  was  selected,  rather  than  the  sanctuary  on  Zion  or 
Olivet,  for  the  sacred  site ; and  the  whole  hill  was  sub- 
sequently added.  Secondly,  the  materials  were  begun 
to  be  laid  in,  and  communications  were  opened  with 
Hiram.  The  Chronicler  even  ascribes  to  David  the 
whole  plan  of  the  building^  down  to  the  minutest  details. 

It  was  the  first  work  that  Solomon  undertook.  The 
stones  were  brought  partly  from  Lebanon, 
partly  from  the  neighborhood  of  Bethlehem,^ 
partly  from  the  quarries  which  have  been  recently  dis- 
covered under  the  Temple  rock,  and  known  by  the 
name  of  the  Royal  Caverns.”^  Hiram’s  assistance 
was  doubly  valuable,  both  from  the  architectural  skill 

1 Ps.  cxxxii.  5.  where  they  are  by  the  Chronicles 

* 1 Chr.  xxvlii.  11,  12,  19.  Of  this  ascribed  to  David.  Comp.  1 Kings 
there  is  no  indication  in  the  Books  of  v.  6;  2 Chr.  ii.  3,  7 ; 1 Kings  vi.  2\ 
Kings.  On  the  contrary,  the  design  2 Chr.  iii.  3. 
imd  preparation  is  ascribed  exclusively  ^ Mishna,  Middoth^  m.  A, 

U>  Solomon,  on  the  very  occasions  ^ Jo.sephus,  B.  J.  v.  4,  § 2. 


Lect.  XXVII. 


ITS  BUILDING. 


227 


of  his  countrymen,^  already  employed  in  his  own  great 
buildings,  and  from  his  supply  of  the  cedar  of  Lebanon, 
conveyed  on  rafts  to  Joppa.  An  immense  array,  chiefly 
of  Canaanites,  was  raised  to  work  in  the  forests,  and  in 
the  quarries  of  Lebanon.^  In  order  to  reconcile  the 
spirit  of  the  new  architecture  as  nearly  as  was  possible 
with  the  letter  of  the  old  law,^  the  stones  were  hewn  in 
the  quarries,  and  placed  with  reverent  silence  one  upon 
another  without  sound  of  axe  or  hammer,  as  if,  by  the 
gradual  growth  of  nature,  — 

Like  some  tall  palm,  the  noiseless  fabric  sprang. 

As  the  building  was  itself  an  innovation  on  the  strict 
Mosaic  ritual,  so  much  more  was  the  ornamental  treat- 
ment of  brass  and  wood.  Accordingly  Hiram,  the  first 
sculptor  and  engraver  of  Israel  was  half  a foreigner.^ 
His  father  was  a Tyrian,  and  was  dead  ; but  his  mother 
was  a Danite  who  lived  in  Naphtali.  He  thus  sprang, 
on  the  Israelite  side,  from  the  same  tribe,  and  (according 
to  Jewish  tradition^)  from  the  same  family,  as  Aholiab, 
the  Danite  artist  in  the  wilderness.  So  wide  was  his 
fame,  and  so  profound  the  reverence  entertained  for  him 
by  the  two  sovereigns  to  whom  he  belonged,  that  he  is 
called  the  father  ” both  of  Solomon  and  of  Hiram.® 
Under  his  directions,  the  vessels  of  brass  were  cast  in 
the  clay-pits  of  the  J ordan  ’ valley ; and  they  were  so 

1 Amongst  whom  the  Giblites  were  4 i Kings  vil.  13,  14.  Josephus, 
famous,  1 Kings  v.  18  (Heb.)  ; Ezek.  Ant.  viii.  3,  § 4. 

xxvii.  9.  5 Jerome  (Qm.  Heb.  on  2 Chr.  ii. 

2 1 Kings  V.  13-17.  To  the  cedars,  13). 

from  Lebanon,  the  Chronicler  adds  6 2 Chr.  ii.  13;  iv.  16. 

“algum”  (2  Chr.  ii.  8),  which  only  7 i Kings  vii.  45,  46.  Hiram  made 
grows  in  Malabar.  See  Lecture  all  the  brass  ornaments,  i.  e.  the  twc 
XXVI.  pillars,  the  lavers,  — great  and  small, 

3 Deut.  xxvii.  5,  6 ; 1 Kings  vi.  7.  — the  pots,  shovels,  and  flesh-hooks. 


228 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XX  VH 


numerouSj  that  Solomon,  with  a true  Oriental  and 
imperial  magnificence,  left  them  unweighed,  — their 
“ weight  was  never  found  out.”  ^ 

The  uneven  rock  of  Moriah  had  to  be  levelled,  and 
the  inequalities  filled  by  immense  substructions  of 
great  stones,”  costly  stones,”  hewed  stones.”  It  is 
of  these,  if  of  any  part  of  the  Temple,  that  the  remains 
are  still  to  be  seen.^ 

The  general  arrangements  were  taken  from  those  of 
the  Tabernacle.^  The  dimensions,  the  divisions,  are  the 
same  either  actually  or  in  proportion ; ^ and,  thus  far, 
are  indicative  of  the  firm  hold  which  the  institutions  of 
the  desert  still  kept  on  the  mind  even  of  the  most 
civilized  period  of  the  nation. 

Little  conception  as  we  can  form  of  its  architectural 
effect,  we  cannot  doubt  that  whatever  light  is 

Its  style.  ’ , . 1 1 1 ° P 

to  be  thrown  upon  it  must  be  derived  from  four 
styles.  1.  Of  the  influence  of  Phoenician  art,  the  Tyrian 
workmen  are  a sufficient  guarantee.  However  much 
they  may  have  conformed  themselves  to  the  general 
requirements  of  the  Jewish  worship,  yet  the  outward 
details  of  the  architecture  must  have  been  influenced 
by  their  national  peculiarities.  Analogous  cases  may  be 
noticed  in  the  building  of  the  Alcazar  at  Seville,  by  the 
more  civilized  workmen  of  Granada,  or  of  some  of  our 
English  cathedrals  by  the  more  civilized  workmen  of 

The  brazen  altar  and  the  brazen  2 i Kings  v.  17;  Josephus,  Ant. 
gates  of  the  two  courts  are  ascribed  vili.  3,  § 2 ; 5.  J.  v.  5,  § 1. 
to  Solomon  himself.  (1  Kings  vii.  ^ Xhis  was  recognized  down  to  a 
15-4.*);  2 Chr.  Iv.  1-10.)  very  late  period.  See  Wisdom  ix.  8. 

t As  Louis  XIV.  Is  said  to  have  ^ Mr.  Fergusson  has  shown  (art. 
burnt  the  accounts  of  the  Palace  Temple  In  the  o/ /Ac  th.at 

of  Vergailles  without  looking  into  the  dimensions  of  the  Temple  were 
them.  exactly  double  those  of  the  Taber* 

nacle. 


Lbct.  xxvn 


THE  ITS  ARRANGEMENTS 


229 


France.  Scanty  as  is  our  knowledge  of  Phoenician 
architecture,  it  enables  us  to  trace  resemblances  which 
can  hardly  be  accidental.  Whenever  in  coins  or  histo- 
ries we  get  a representation  ^ of  a Phoenician  temple,  it 
always  has  a pillar  or  pillars  standing  before  or  within 
it.  Such  in  Solomon’s  temple  were  Jachin  and  Boaz. 
2.  In  common  with  the  Assyrian  architecture  ^ was  the 
mixed  use  of  wood  and  metal,  which  alone  were  used  in 
the  Temple  for  sculpture.  3.  Solomon’s  intercourse 
with  Egypt  renders  probable  the  connection  which  the 
actual  resemblance  almost  proves.  The  courts,  the 
cloisters,  the  enormous  porch,  the  pyramidal  form  of  the 
towers,^  the  painted  sculptures  on  the  wall,  the  succes- 
sive chambers,  the  darkness  of  the  adytum,  are  all  found 
in  Thebes  or  Ipsambul.  4.  One  other  style  remains 
which  illustrates  the  Jewish  temple,  by  lil^eness,  not  of 
architecture,  but  of  design.  If  the  mystery  and  massive- 
ness of  the  temple  can  be  found  nowhere  but  in  the  old 
Pagan  sanctuaries,  the  pleasant  precincts,  the  means  of 
ablution,  and  the  almost  universal  absence  of  imagery, 
can  be  found  nowhere  but  in  the  sanctuaries  of  the  only 
other  existing  Semitic  religion,  — the  mosques  of  Islam. 

The  result  of  these  combinations  was  a building  un- 
like any  modern  edifice,  unlike  in  many  re-  Thecoion- 
spects  even  to  the  Temple  of  Herod,  which 
succeeded,  and  which  must  be  carefully  distinguished 
from  it. 

On  the  eastern  side  w'as  a colonnade  or  cloister,  which 
formed  the  only  outward  barrier.  The  later 
kings  continued  it  all  round;  but  this  alone 

1 Thus  the  Temple  at  Gath  (Juclg.  44).  See  Biihr’s  Solomonische  lempel, 
xvi.  29),  at  Gades  (Philostrat.  Vit.  p,  250. 

ApolL  V.  5 ; Silius  Ital.  Bell.  Pun.  III.  2 Fergusson’s  Handbook  of  Archi- 
14,  22,  32),  and  at  Tyre  (Herod,  ii.  tecture. 

3 Ezek.  xlil.  4,  5,  6. 


230 


THE  TEMl'LE  OF  SOLOMON 


Lect.  XX\T[1 


was  ascribed  to  Solomon/  and  his  name  therefore  lin 
gered  on  the  spot  long  afterwards,  and  even  in  the  time 
of  the  second  Temple,  gave  to  it  or  the  cloister  built 
upon  its  ruins  the  title  of  Solomon’s  Portico.^ 

This  portico  opened  on  a large  quadrangle,  sur- 
rounded hy  a wall,  partly  of  stone,  partly  of  cedar. 
Here  was  retained  a relic  of  the  ancient  sanctity  at- 
tached to  trees,  — a vestige  of  Canaanite  and  patriarchal 
feeling  clinging  to  the  stillness  and  solemnity  of  a sacred 
grove.  Like  the  present  Haram-es-Sherif  at  Jerusalem, 
it  was  planted  with  trees,  amongst  which  the  spreading 
cedar,  the  stately  palm,  and  the  venerable  olive,  were 
conspicuous.®  This  may  have  suggested  or  continued 
the  peculiar  image  of  the  covert  or  lair  of  the  Lion  of 
Judah.  In  Salem  is  His  leafy  covert,  and  His  rocky 
den  in  Zion.”  ^ Under  those  trees,  too,  in  the  darker 
days  of  Jerusalem,  were  doubtless  established  the  licen- 
tious rites  of  the  Phoenician  divinities. 

Within  this  was  a smaller  court,  on  the  highest  ridge 
of  the  hill.  Here  was  the  sacred  rock  bought  by  David 
from  Araunah,  the  ancient  Jebusite  king,  on  the  day  of 
the  cessation  of  the  pestilence.  It  was,  as  it  were,  the 
reverse  of  Naboth’s  vineyard.  The  memory  that  David 
had  acquired  it  by  just  purchase,  not  by  unjust  acquisi- 
tion, long  remained  in  Oriental  traditions ; ^ and  the 
rocky  threshing-floor  of  the  heathen  Prince  thus  emerg- 
ing in  the  very  centre  of  the  sanctuary  was  a monument 
of  the  homage  paid  to  Justice  and  Toleration  in  the 
heart  of  the  worship  of  Jehovah. 

On  this  platform  rose  the  altar ; probably  the  very 

J Josoplius,  B.  J.  V.  5 ; § 1.  ^ Ps.  Ixxvl.  2. 

3 John  X.  23;  Acts  iil.  11;  v.  12.  ^ Por  the  fine  Mussulman  legend 

3.  Ps.  Hi.  8;  xcil.  12,  13.  For  the  representing  the  same  idea,  see  Jela- 
oirds,  Ps.  Ixxxiv.  3.  laddin,  Temple  of  Jerusalem^  27. 


Lect.  XXVII. 


ITS  ARRANGEMENTS. 


231 


one  erected  by  David,  as  there  is  no  special  record  of  its 
elevation  by  Solomon.  There  was  something 

, . 1 1 1 • • The  altar. 

about  it,  whether  from  this  circumstance  or 
its  general  rudeness,  which  seems  to  have  made  it  out 
of  proportion  to  the  general  grandeur  of  the  Temple.^ 
Apparently,  without  regard  to  the  Mosaic  law,  it  was 
mounted  by  steps.^  It  was  a square  chest  of  wood, 
plated  outside  with  brass,  filled  inside  with  stones  and 
earth,^  with  the  fire  on  a brass  grating  at  the  top ; the 
whole  placed  on  a mass  of  rough  stone.  The  rudeness 
of  the  structure  bore  witness  to  the  antiquity  of  the 
rites  celebrated  upon  it.  It  represented  at  once  a table 
and  a hearth,  the  Table  of  the  Lord,”  ^ on  which  the 
dead  animal  was  roasted  and  burnt,  after  having  been 
fastened  to  one  of  the  four  square  projections,  which 
under  the  name  of  horns  ” protruded  from  each  cor- 
ner,® — a vast  hearth  on  which  to  light  the  sacred  fire, 
which  went  up,  spirelike,  to  the  sky,®  the  Hearth  ’ of 
God.” 

It  was  much  larger  than  the  ancient  altar  of  the 
Tabernacle,  but  was  itself  to  be  displaced  hereafter  ® by 
a still  larger  one,  — as  though  it  grew  "with  the  growth 
of  the  worship.  South  of  the  altar  was  the  brazen  laver. 


1 It  is  mentioned  in  2 Chr.  iv.  1, 
vi.  12;  and  in  1 Kings  viii.  22,  ix.  25  ; 
but  not  at  all  in  1 Kings  vi.,  vii.  If 
it  v^as  the  old  one,  this  would  account 
for  its  being  too  small  in  proportion 
(I  Kings  viii.  64;  2 Kings  xvi.  14). 

2 Ezek.  xliii.  1 7 ; Mishna,  Middoth. 
Comp.  Exod.  XX.  26. 

2 Middothy  ili.  4.  A grate  repre- 
sents the  altar  in  the  embroidered 
draperies  of  the  Samaritan  synagogue. 

* Mai.  i.  7,  12;  Ezek.  xliv.  16. 

• Ex.  xxvii.  2;  Ps.  cxviii.  27. 


6 Ewald,  Altertliiimery  118;  Lev. 
VI.  12,  13. 

7 Ariel,  Ezek.  xliii.  15,  16  (Heb.)  ; 
Isaiah  xxlx.  1. 

® 2 Chron.  iv.  1,  compared  with 
Exod.  xxvii.  1.  In  the  later  Temple 
it  was  superseded  by  one  more  than 
twice  as  large.  The  smaller  size, 
Ezek.  xliii.  13-17,  may  be  explained 
by  supposing  it  to  relate  to  the  brazen 
part ; the  larger,  in  2 Chr.  iv.  1,  to 
the  whole  rock  or  stonework. 


232 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVIL 


Rupported  on  twelve  brazen  bulls,  and  apparently  pour- 
ing forth  its  water  into  a basin  below,  which  must  have 
been  as  large  as  those  beneath  the  fountains  in  Paris 
and  in  Rome.  This  was  used  for  the  ablutions  of  the 
priests,  as  they  walked  to  and  fro  barefooted  over  the 
rocky  platform.  On  each  side  were  the  ten  lesser 
movable  vessels  of  brass,  on  wheels,  for  the  washing  of 
the  entrails.'  They  are  described  with  great  detail,  as 
if  they  were  considered  wonderful  works  of  art.  These 
and  the  laver  were  trophies  of  the  victories  of  David, 
being  made  from  the  brass  which  he  brought  back  from 
the  conquest  of  Syria.^  They  were  remarkable  as  the 
works  of  Hiram,  who  accordingly,  as  a Tyrian  sculptor, 
did  not  scruple  to  introduce  bulls  in  the  greater  laver, 
and  bulls  and  lions  and  cherubs  in  the  lesser,  probably 
as  the  emblems  of  the  two  chief  tribes. 

Round  about  the  lesser  court,  in  two  or  three  stories, 
raised  above  each  other,  were  chambers  for  the  priests  ® 
and  other  persons  of  rank,  as  in  a college  or  monastery. 
In  the  corners  were  the  kitchens  and  boiling  apparatus. 
Each  had  brazen  gates.® 

Thus  far  on  the  whole  there  was  only  an  enlarged  rep- 
resentation of  the  courts  of  the  Tabernacle.  But  now, 
behind  the  altar,  all  was  new.  The  space  immediately 
beyond  was  deemed  especially  sacred,®  as  intervening 
between  the  altar,  the  centre  of  the  national  worship, 
and  the  porch  of  the  Temple,  which  enshrined  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Invisible.  Overshadowing  this  space,  there 
rose instead  of  the  Tabernacle,  half  tent,  half  hovel 


1 The  meaning  of  the  name  of  the 
engine  which  sup[)orted  them  (^Mecho- 
noth)  is  lost,  and  is  left  untranslated 
both  in  the  LXX.  and  in  Josephus 
[Ant.  viii.  3,  § «). 

3 1 Chron.  xvili.  8. 


3 2 Chron.  xxxi.  11;  Jer.  xxxvi. 
10;  Ezek.  xl.  45  ; xlii.  1. 

4 Ezek.  xlvi.  20-24. 

5 2 Chr.  iv.  9. 

6 Joel  ii.  17;  Ezek.  viii.  16;  Matt 
xxili.  35. 


Lect.  XXVII. 


ITS  AKRANGEMENTS. 


233 


— a solid  building  — the  Temple  ” properly  so  called, 
the  Palace  of  the  Lord.^  The  outside  view  must,  if  we 
can  trust  the  numbers,  have  been  according  to  modern 
notions,  strangely  out  of  proportion.  In  front  towered 
the  porch,  to  the  prodigious  height  of  more  than  two 
hundred  feet.  Behind  was  a lower  edifice,  lessening  in 
height  as  it  approached  its  extremity.  Half-way  up  its 
height,  and  perhaps  even  over  its  roof,  small  chambers, 
entered  only  from  without,  clustered  like  the  shops 
round  the  walls  of  continental  cathedrals.  A sandal- 
wood door  on  the  south  was  the  approach  to  them,  and 
a winding  staircase  led  thence  to  the  second  and  third 
stories,  into  gilded  chambers,  accessible  to  the  King 
alone.^  The  successive  diminutions  in  the  thickness  of 
the  walls  of  the  Temple  enabled  the  chambers  ^ to  in- 
crease in  size,  in  proportion  to  the  elevation  of  the 
stories.  With  the  exception  of  the  tower,  which  pre- 
sented a singular  alternation  of  stone  and  timber,^  the 
exterior  of  the  structure  more  nearly  resembled  the 
Tabernacle,  its  massive  stone  walls  being  entirely  cased 
in  cedar,  so  as  to  give  it  the  appearance  of  a rough  log- 
house.® 

The  porch,  the  most  startling  novelty  of  the  building, 
was,  as  bein^  external  to  the  rest,  the  part  in 

, . , ^ . n 1 1 P The  porch. 

which  loreign  architects  were  allowed  the  freest 
play.  In  materials  it  was  probably  suggested  by  the 
Assyrian,  in  elevation  by  the  Egyptian  architecture, 
whilst  the  Tyrian  sculptors  displayed  their  art  to  the 
full  in  the  two  elaborate  pillars.  They  stood  immedi- 

1 Hicalf  the  Greek  vadf,  as  distin-  2 i Kings  vi.  8 ; Josephus,  Ant.  viii. 
gulshed  from  the  surrounding  lepdv.  3,  § 2. 

The  word  hical  is  used  for  2^,  palace  in  3 j Kings  vi.  6. 

i Kings  xxi.  1 ; 2 Kings  xx.  18  ; Ps.  4 Jbid.  vii.  12. 

»lv.  8,  15  5 Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  2,  § 2; 

Reland,  Palestina,  313. 


234 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVIL 


ately  under  the  porch,  within,  but  not  supporting  it,  and 
were  called  either  from  the  workmen,  or  from  their  own 
firmness  and  solidity,  Jachin  and  Boaz.  Their  golden 
pedestals,  their  bright  brazen  shafts,  their  rich  capitals, 
their  light  festoons,  were  thought  prodigies  of  art  so 
remarkable,’  that  the  Israelites  were  never  weary  of 
recounting  their  glories.  The  gates  of  the  porch  usually 
stood  wide  open.^  Hung  round  it,  inside,  were  probably 
the  shields  and  spears  that  had  been  used  in  David’s 
army,®  perhaps  also  the  sword  and  the  skull  of  the  gi- 
o-antic  Philistine,^  which  had  originally  been  laid  up  in 
the  Tabernacle. 

Within,  another  pair  of  folding-doors  (made  of 
n-u  n , cypress,  with  their  door-posts,  which  fitted  im- 

Place.  mediately  behind  the  square  pedestals  ot  the 

pillars)  led  into  the  Holy  Place.  It  would  have  been 
almost  dark,  in  spite  of  a few  loopholes^  above,  but  for 
an  innovation  now  first  ventured  upon.  In  the  place 
of  the  original  single  seven-branched  candlestick,  ten® 
now  stood  on  ten  golden  tables,  five  on  each  side.  The 
light  of  these  revealed  the  interior.  As  without,  so 
within,  the  whole  was  lined  with  wood ; the  walls  with 
cedar,  the  floors  with  cypress  or  deal.^  The  Phoenician 
workmen  had  rendered  it  as  nearly  as  they  could  like 
one  of  the  huge  vessels  to  which  their  own  city  of  Tyre 
was  compared  by  the  Hebrew  Prophets.®  But  inside, 
the  wood  was  overlaid  with  gold,  and  on  this  were 

1 1 Kin^s  vli.  15-22  ; 2 Kings  xviii.  ^ 1 Kings  vi.  4. 

16;  XXV.  n;  2 Chr.  iii.  15-17;  Jer.  ^ Ibid.  vii.  49  ; 2 Clir.  iv.  20.  Those 

hi.  21-2.3.  also  are  said  to  have  been  seven- 

2 2 Chr.  xxix.  7;  Isa.  vi.  1.  branched  (Enpolemus,  in  Eusebius 

3 2 Chr.  xxiii.  9;  2 Kings  xi.  10.  Pranp.  Ev.  ix.  34). 

These  were  distinct  from  the  sliields  ^ 1 Kings  vi.  l.>,  18. 
taken  from  Iladad-c/.er.  ® Ezek.  xxvii. 

4 1 Sam.  xvii.  54  ; xxi.  9. 


Lect.  XXVII. 


ITS  ARRANGEMENTS. 


235 


I 


sciUptured  forms  wliich  nearly  resemble  the  winged 
creatures  ^ and  mysterious  trees  familiar  to  us  in  Assy- 
rian sculpture.  The  Cherub  with  the  alternate  face  of 
a man  and  of  a lion,  and  the  Palm,  then,  as  afterwards 
in  the  Maccabman  ^ age,  the  emblem  of  Palestine,  were 
worked  alternately  along  the  walls.  At  the  end  of  the 
chamber  were  the  two  symbols  of  nourishment  and 
feasting,  which  in  a more  tangible  and  material  form 
was  represented  by  the  sacrifices : — as,  on  the  rough 
altar  outside,  the  great  sacrificial  feasts  were  of  animal 
flesh,  so  wfithin,  the  daily  offering  was  of  the  consecrated 
loaves  on  their  gilded  table,  the  daily  cloud  of  incense 
from  the  gilded  altar. 

A wall  of  partition,”  such  as  the  lighter  structure 
of  the  tent  had  not  allowed,  shut  in  the  innermos: 
sanctuary.  But  this  too  was  penetrated  by  folding- 
doors  of  olive-wood ; over  which  hung  a party-colored 
curtain,  embroidered  with  cherubs  and  flowers.^ 

He  wdio  in  the  progress  of  the  building  ventured  to 
look  in  would  have  seen  a small  square  cham- 
ber,  like  an  Egyptian  adytum,'^  absolutely  dark 
except  by  the  light  received  through  this  aperture. 
But  in  the  darkness,^  two  huge  golden  forms  would  have 
been  discerned,  in  imitation,  on  a grand  scale,  of  the 
cherubs  which  had  formed  the  covering  of  the  ancient 
Ark.  But,  unlike  those  movable  figures,  these  stood 
firm  on  their  feet;  one  on  the  north,  one  on  the  south 
side,  w^aiting  to  receive  the  Ark,  which  was  destined  to 
occupy  the  vacant  space  between  them.  Their  vast 


1 Ezek.  xli.  18-20.  All  knowleged  4 i.  e.  not  “ oracle,”  but  “ in- 

of  the  cherubs  was  lost  in  the  time  of  nermost  part.” 

Josephus  (Ant.  vili.  3,  § 3).  5 i,j  the  later  Temple,  workmen 

2 See  the  Maccabman  coins.  for  repairs  were  let  into  it  blindfold 

3 1 Kings  vi.  31  ; 2 Chron.  iii.  14;  (Middolh). 

Josephus,  Ant.  vili.  3,  § 3. 


236 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XX7II 


wings  extended  over  it  and  joined  in  a car  or  throne, 
called  the  chariot  ^ of  the  cherubs/’  to  represent  the 
throne  of  Him  who  was  represented  as  flying  and  sitting 
upon  the  wings  of  the  wind,  and  the  extension  of  His 
protecting  shelter  over  His  people,  — Thou  shalt  be 
^Ssafe  under  His  feathers.”  A protuberance  of  rough  rock 
)r  stone  waited  to  receive  the  Ark  itself^  To  mark  the 
sanctity  of  this  extremity  of  the  Temple,  the  chambers 
which  ran  round  the  rest  of  the  building  were  not  al- 
lowed to  lean  against  the  outer  walls  of  the  sanctuary, 
but,  as  in  the  case  of  an  Egyptian  adytum,  a passage 
was  left  free  all  round  it  outside. 

In  turning  from  the  building  to  the  history  of  its 
The  Dedica-  ^rection,  every  stage  of  its  progress  is  recorded, 
tion.  magnitude  of  the  event  is  marked  by  the 

fact  that  now,  for  the  first  time  since  the  Exodus,  we 
have  the  years  and  months  recorded.  The  foundation- 
stone  was  laid  in  the  month  Zif  (May)  of  the  fourth 
year  of  Solomon’s  reign.  It  was  completed  in  the  month 
Bui  (November)  of  the  eleventh  year.  And  the  solemn 
dedication  took  place  in  the  month  Ethanim  (October) 
of  the  succeeding  year.  This  interval  of  nearly  a year 
took  place  no  doubt  in  order  to  accommodate  it  to  the 
great  national  Festival  of  the  Tabernacles.  The  whole 
population  came  up  from  the  remotest  extremities  of  the 
empire.^  The  two  solemnities  were  joined ; the  extraor- 
dinary taking  the  place  of  the  ordinary  festival,^  and 
the  ordinary  festival  being  thus  postponed  to  the  follow- 
ing week,  so  as  to  make  altogether  a prolonged  holiday 
of  a fortnight.^ 

1 1 Chr.  xxvlii,  18;  compare  Ps.  As  afterwards  in  the  dedication 

xviii.  10,  xeix.  1 ; Isa.  vi.,  xxxvii.  16  ; of  the  Temple  of  Bethel  by  Jeroboam, 
Ezek.  i.  26  ; Ecclus.  xllx.  8.  1 Kings  xii.  32.  See  Lecture  XXIXL 

2 Mishna,  Jomn,  v.  2.  ^ 2 Kings  viii.  i,  65  ; 2 Chr.  vii.  8, 

• 1 Kings  vii.  65.  9,  10. 


LrcT.  XXVI I. 


THE  DEDICATION. 


237 


It  was  on  the  fourteenth  day  of  the  seventh  month 
that  the  festival  opened.  Two  processions  advanced 
from  different  quarters.  The  one  came  from  the  lofty 
height  of  Gibeon,  bearing  with  it  the  relics  of  the  old 
pastoral  worship,  now  to  be  disused  forever.  The 
Sacred  Tent,  tattered  no  doubt,  and  often  repaired,  with 
its  goats’  hair  covering  and  boards  of  acacia  wood,  was 
carried  aloft.  Together  with  it  were  brought  the  an- 
cient brazen  altar,  the  candlestick,  and  the  table  of 
shewbread,  and  also  the  brazen  serpent.  A heathen 
tradition  described  that  the  King  himself  had  inau- 
gurated the  removal  ^ with  solemn  sacrifices. 

This  train,  bearing  the  venerable  remains  of  the  ob- 
solete system,  was  joined  on  Mount  Zion  by  xhepro- 
another  still  more  stately  procession,  carrying 
the  one  relic  which  was  to  unite  the  old  and  the  new 
together.  From  its  temporary  halting-place  under  the 
tent  erected  by  David  on  Mount  Zion,  came  forth  the 
Ark  of  acacia- wood,  covered  with  its  two  small  winged 
figures,  supported  as  of  old  by  the  Levites  on  their 
shoulders.  Now,  as  before  when  it  had  removed  from 
the  house  of  Obed-edom,  the  King  and  people  celebrated 
its  propitious  start  by  sacrifices,  — but  on  a far  greater 
scale,  — sheep  and  oxen  that  could  not  be  numbered 
‘Mor  multitude.”^  The  road  (such  was  the  traditional 
picture  preserved  by  Josephus  was  flooded  with  the 
streams  of  blood.  The  air  was  darkened  and  scented 
with  the  clouds  of  incense ; the  songs  and  dances  were 
unintermitted. 

Onwards  the  procession  moved  up  ” the  slope  of  the 
hiU.  It  entered,  doubtless,  through  the  eastern  gate* 

1 Eupolemus  (in  Eusebius,  Prcep.  2 i Kings  viii.  5. 

E\).  ix.  34).  IIo  says  Sliiloh,  3 Ant.vni.  4,  § 1.  ■ 

Lut  this  is  a natural  confusion  for 

Uibeon. 


238 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  KXVll 


way.  It  ascended  court  after  court.  It  entered  the 
Holy  Place.  And  now,  before  the  Ark  disappeared  for 
the  last  time  from  the  eyes  of  the  people,  the  awful 
reverence  which  had  kept  any  inquisitive  eyes  from 
prying  into  the  secrets  of  that  sacred  Chest  gave  way 
before  the  united  feelings  of  necessity  and  of  irresistible 
curiosity.  The  ancient  lid  formed  by  the  cherubs  was 
to  be  removed;  and  a new  one  without  them  to  be 
substituted,  to  fit  it  for  its  new  abode.  It  was  taken 
off,  and  in  so  doing,  the  interior  of  the  Ark  was  seen  by 
Israelite  eyes  for  the  first  time  for  more  than  four  cem 
turies,  perhaps  for  the  last  time  forever.  There  were 
various  relics  of  incalculable  interest  which  are  recorded 
to  have  been  laid  up  within,  or  beside  it,^  — the  pot 
of  manna,  the  staff  or  sceptre  of  the  tribe  of  Aaron, 
and  the  golden  censer  of  Aaron.  These  all  were  gone ; 
lost,  it  may  be,  in  the  Philistine  captivity.  But  it  still 
contained  a monument  more  sacred  than  any  of  these. 
In  the  darkness  of  the  interior  lay  the  two  granite 
blocks  from  Mount  Sinai,  covered  with  the  ancient 
characters  in  which  were  graven  the  Ten  Command- 
ments. There  was  nothing  in  the  Ark  save  these.”  On 
these  the  lid  was  again  shut  down,  and  with  this  burden, 
the  pledge  of  the  Law  which  was  the  highest  manifes- 
tation of  the  Divine  Presence,  the  Ark  moved  within 
the  veil,  and  was  seen  no  more.”  ^ In  that  dark  recep- 
tacle, two  gigantic  guardians  were,  as  we  have  seen, 
waiting  to  receive  it.  The  two  golden  cherubs  were 
spreading  forth  their  wings  to  take  the  place  of  the 
diminutive  figures  which  had  crouched  over  it  up  to 
this  time.  On  a rough  unhewn  projection  of  the  rock, 

* TIeb.  ix.  4.  It  may,  liovvevcr,  be  the  testimony  ” (Exod.  xvi.  33 ; Num 
tliat  tills  is  an  erroneous  inference  xvil.  10). 
from  “ before  the  Lord,”  and  “ before  8 See  Lecture  VII. 


Lect.  XXVII. 


THE  DEDICATION. 


239 


under  this  covering,  the  Ark  was  thrust  ^ in,  and  placed 
lengthways,  on  what  is  called  the  place  of  its  rest.”  ^ 
Then  the  retiring  Priests,  as  a sign  that  it  was  to  go 
out  thence  no  more,  drew  forth  ^ from  it  the  staves  or 
handles  on  which  they  had  borne  it  to  and  fro ; and 
although  the  staves  themselves  remained  within  the 
veil,  the  ends  could  just  be  seen  protruding  through 
the  door,  in  token  that  its  long  wanderings  were  over. 
They  remained  long  afterwards,  even  to  the  later  days 
of  the  monarchy,^  and  guided  the  steps  of  the  Chief 
Priest  as  he  entered  in  the  darkness.  The  final  settle- 
ment of  the  Ark  was  the  pledge  that  the  Lord  God 
of  Israel  had  given  rest  to  His  people  — in  the  new 
capital  of  Jerusalem  — and  also  rest  to  the  Levites,  that 
they  should  no  more  carry  the  Tabernacle  ^ to  and  fro, 
but  minister  in  the  fixed  service  of  the  Temple. 

The  relics  from  Gibeon  were  for  the  most  part  stored 
up  in  the  sacred  treasuries.  The  Altar  ® of  incense  and 
the  table  of  shewbread  alone  were  retained  for  use,  and 
planted  in  the  Holy  Place.  The  Brazen  Serpent  was 
set  up,  if  not  in  the  Temple,  yet  somewhere  in  Jeru- 
salem; with  an  altar  before  it  on  which  incense  was 
burnt.^ 

The  Priests  who  had  thus  deposited  their  sacred 
burdens  came  out  of  the  porch,  and  took  up  their  place 
in  the  position  which  afterwards  became  consecrated  to 
them,  — between  the  porch  and  the  altar.”  ® Bound 

1 Mishna,  Joma^  v.  2.  4 » Even  to  tliis  day,”  1 Kings  viii. 

2 Ps.  cxxxli.  8,  14.  8 ; 2 Chr.  v.  9 (see  Keil  ad  loc,). 

3 The  words  “ drew  forth,”  how-  5 1 Chr.  xxlii.  25,  26. 

ever,  are  taken  by  Ewald  and  Thenlns  6 Josephus  {Ant.  viii.  4,  § 1)  adde 

to  mean  “ elongated.”  The  LXX.  “ the  candlestick.” 
calls  the  staves  to.  ayia  and  ra  riyiaG-  7 2 Kings  xviii.  4. 

«va  in  1 Kings  viii.  7,  8,  but  m 2 Chr.  8 Joel  li.  17. 

V 0,  oi  uva6ood^. 


240 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVIL 


about  them  in  the  open  court  stood  the  innumerable 
spectators.  Opposite  them,  on  the  east  of  the  altar, 
stood  the  band  of  musicians,  clothed  ^ in  white.  They 
blended  the  new  and  gentler  notes  of  David’s  music 
with  the  loud  trumpet  blast  of  the  earlier  age. 

And  now  came  the  King  himself  He  came,  we  can- 
not doubt,  with  all  the  state  which  in  later  times  is  de- 
scribed as  accompanying  the  Jewish  monarchs  on  their 
entrance  to  the  Temple.  He  started  from  his  Palace  — 
from  the  Porch,  which  by  this  time,  perhaps,  was  just 
finished.  The  guard  of  five  hundred  went  before,  at 
their  head  was  the  chief  minister^  of  the  King;  the 
chief  at  once  of  the  royal  guard  and  of  the  royal  house- 
hold, distinguished  by  his  splendid  mantle  and  sash.  He 
distributed  to  the  guards  the  five  hundred  golden  targets 
which  hung  in  the  porch,  and  which  they  bore  aloft  as 
they  went;  and  then  the  doors  of  the  gateway  were 
thrown  open  by  the  same  great  functionary,  who  alone 
had  in  his  custody  the  key  of  the  house  of  David,  the 
key  of  state  which  he  bore  upon  his  shoulder.^  Like 
the  Sultan  or  the  Khalif,  in  the  grand  processions  of 
Islam,  the  King  followed.  Over  the  valley  which  sep- 
arated the  palace  from  the  Temple,  there  was  a bridge 
or  causeway  uniting  the  two.^  It  ^^was  the  way  by 
which  the  King  went  up  to  the  House  of  the  Lord,” 
and  the  magnificent  steps  at  each  end,  of  red  sandal- 

1 2 Chr.  V.  12.  Compare  xxlx.  26,  of  later  date,  are  probably  tbe  relici 

and  Amos  vl.  5,  with  Dr.  Posey’s  of  bridges  answering  to  tliat  men- 
note.  tioned.  The  first  is  that  found  by  Dr. 

2 1 Kings  xiv.  27,  28.  See  Lecture  Robitison  at  the  southwest  corner  of 

X_XVI.  the  Ilarain  area  {Bih.  Res.  i.  287, 

3 Isa.  xxii.  15,  21,  22.  i second,  tliat  recently  discov- 

< Josephus,  Ant.  xiv.  4,  § 2 *,  B.  J.  ered  by  Captain  Wilson  further  north, 

i.  7,  § 2 ; ii.  16,  § .3 ; vi.  6,  § 2,  8,  § L along  the  same  wall,  below  the  Bab- 
The  remains  of  two  arches  have  el-Kalnin. 
been  found,  which,  though  doubtless 


tacT.  XXVII. 


THE  DEDICATION. 


241 


wood,  were  the  wonder  of  the  Eastern  world.^  From 
this  he  entered  the  portico  of  Solomon.”  ^ 

Besides  the  guards  who  preceded  him,  there  were 
guards  in  three  detachments,  who  were  stationed  at  the 
gate  of  the  palace,  at  the  gate  of  the  Temple  court,  and 
at  the  gate  where  they  halted,  probably  at  the  entrance 
of  the  inner  court.^  Immediately  inside  that  entrance, 
was  fixed  on  a pillar  the  royal  seat,  surmounted  by  a 
brazen  canopy.^  Here  the  King  usually  stood.  But  on 
the  present  occasion  a variation  was  made  in  accordance 
with  the  grandeur  of  the  solemnity.  A large  brazen 
scaffold^  w^as  erected  east  of  the  altar ; apparently  at 
the  entrance  of  the  outer  court,  where  the  people  were 
assembled.  Here  Solomon  took  his  seat.® 

As  the  Priests  came  out,  the  whole  band  of  musicians 
and  singers  burst  forth  into  the  joyful  strain  TheDedi- 
which  forms  the  burden  of  the  136th  Psalm : 

For  He  is  good,  and  His  mercy  endureth  for  ever.”  At 
the  same  instant,  it  is  described  that  the  darkness 
within  the  Temple  had  become  insupportable.  ^^The 
“ liouse  was  filled  with  a cloud  ; for  the  glory  of  the 
^^Lord  had  filled  the  house  of  the  Lord.”  It  was  at 
this  moment  that  Solomon  himself  first  took  his  part  in 
the  dedication.  Up  to  this  point,  he  had  been  seated 
on  the  brazen  scaffold,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  Temple. 
But  now  that  he  heard  the  announcement  that  the  sign 
of  Divine  favor  had  been  perceived,  he  rose  from  his 
place,  and  broke  into  a song,  or  psalm,  of  which  two 
\ ersions  are  preserved.^  The  abruptness,  which  guaran- 

1 1 Kings  X.  5;  2 Chr.  ix.  4,  11.  *2  Kings  xi.  14  ; xxiii.  3 (Heb. 

2 Compare  the  entrance  of  the  “ pillar  ”). 

Khalif,  through  the  grand  approach,  5 2 Chr.  vi.  13. 

open  to  him  only,  in  the  precincts  of  ® Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  4,  § 2. 
the  mosque  of  Cordova.  7 1 Kings  viii.  13.  One  in  the  He- 

3 2 Chr.  xxiii.  5.  brew  text,  the  other  in  theLXX.  ( ven 


VOL.  II. 


16 


242 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lkct.  XX  V!I 


tees  its  antiquity,  leaves  it  in  great  obscurity.  “He 
“knew  the  sun  in  heaven.  The  Lord  spake  from  (or  ofi 
“ His  dwelling  in  darkness.”  « Build  My  house ; a glorh 
“ous  house  for  thyself,  to  dwell  in  newness;”  to  which 
the  Hebrew  text  adds,  “I  have  surely  built  Thee  a 
“house  to  dwell  in,  a settled  place  to  abide  in  for  ever.” 
The  tiyo  fragments  together  well  express  the  predomi- 
mnt  feelings  of  the  moment, — the  mysterioiisness  of 
the  Divine  Presence,  the  novelty  of  the  epoch,  and  the 
change  from  a wandering  and  primitive  to  a settled  and 
regular  worship.  Then  he  turned  and  performed  the 
highest  sacerdotal  act,  of  solemn  benediction.  The 
multitude,  prostrate,  as  it  would  seem  before,  rose  to 
receive  it.  Once  again  he  turned  westward,  towards  the 
Temple.  He  stretched  forth  his  hands  in  the  gesture 
of  Oriental  prayer,  as  if  to  receive  the  blessings  for 
which  he  sought,  and  at  the  same  time  exchamred  the 
usual  standing-posture  of  Oriental  prayer  for  the  ex- 
traordinary one  of  kneeling,  now  first  mentioned  in  the 
bacred  history,  and  only  used  in  Eastern  devotions 
at  the  present  day  in  moments  of  deep  humiliation. 

he  prayer  itself  is  one  of  unprecedented  length;  and 
IS  remarkable  as  combining  the  conception  of  the 
Infinity  of  the  Divine  Presence  with  the  hope  that 
the  Divine  mercies  will  be  drawn  down  on  the  nation 
by  the  concentration  of  the  national  devotion.s,  and 

even  of  the  devotion  of  foreign  nations,  towards  this 
fixed  locality.^ 

Then  again  the  Sovereign  rose,  turned  eastward  to 
the  people,  and  bestowed  a second  benediction. 


53),  witli  the  statement  that  it  was 
writUm  in  “ the  Book  of  the  Song.” 

^ Hie  alleged  later  phrases,  and 
'till  mon;  (he  variations  of  the  prayer 
in  the  Ilehrew  and  the  LXX.,  and 


also  in  the  Kings  and  Chronicles, 
render  it  ditTicult  for  us  to  suppose 
that  we  have  the  exact  words  of 
feolonion.  Still  the  general  substance 
of  the  devotions  must  be  his. 


Lict  XXVII. 


THE  DEDICATION. 


243 


And  now  began  the  actual  consecration  of  the  whole 
Banctuary  by  the  act  of  sacrifice.  This,  being  Theconse- 
in  the  open  court,  was  the  only  one  in  which 
the  whole  assembly  could  take  part.  It  is  described 
in  the  later  accounts  that  fire  descended  from  Heaven^ 
and  consumed  the  whole,  and  that  the  people  at  the 
sight  prostrated  themselves,  and  .repeated  once  more 
the  burden  of  the  Psalm,  “^^For  He  is  good,  and  His 
mercy  endureth  for  ever.”  The  sacred  altar  being 
too  small  for  the  reception  of  the  victims,  the  King 
consecrated  a space  in  the  middle  of  the  court  (whether 
outer  or  inner,  does  not  appear  ^),  and  on  this  ox  after 
ox,  it  is  said,  to  the  number  of  22,000,  and  sheep  after 
sheep,  to  the  number  of  120,000,  were  consumed.^ 

The  Feast  of  the  Dedication  of  the  Altar,”  as  it  was 
technically  called,^  lasted  for  a week,  over  which  time, 
probably,  the  enormous  mass  of  sacrificial  victims  was 
extended.  This  again  was  succeeded  by  the  Festival 
of  the  Tabernacles,  now  celebrated  with  more  than  the 
usual  festivities.  The  mere  feasting  occasioned  by  the 
vast  number  of  victims  would  be  sufficient  to  mark  the 
grandeur  of  the  Festival.  At  the  close  of  all,  on  the 
twenty-third  of  the  seventh  month,  the  King  finally  dis- 
missed the  people,  and  received  their  blessing  in  turn ; 
and  they  went  away  ‘‘to  their  tents”  (the  pastoral  term 
still  lingered),  glad  and  merry  of  heart,  lightening  the 
journey  home  by  songs  of  joy ^^for  all  the  goodness 
that  the  Lord  had  done  to  David  his  servant,  and  to 
Solomon,  and  to  Israel  his  people.”  ® 


1 2 Chr.  vii.  1,  2;  Joseplius,  Ant.  Mecca  40,000  camels  and  50,000 

7iii.  4,  § 4.  sheep  (Burton,  Pilgrimage,  i.  318). 

2 1 Kings  vill.  64  ; 2 Chr.  vii.  7.  ^2  Chr.  vii.  9. 

3 The  Khalif  Moktader  sacrificed  ® Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  4,  § 6. 

® 1 Kings  viii.  66  ; 2 Chr.  vii.  10. 


244 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVD. 


A dream,  like  that  which  had  opened  his  reign  at  the 
ancient  and  now  deserted  sanctuary  of  Gibeon,  closed 
the  eventful  ceremony.  It  conveyed  the  assurance 
that  the  Divine  Blessing  would  be  granted  to  the  work 
that  was  finished,  combined  wuth  the  warning  that  this 
Blessing  was  conditional  on  the  obedience  and  piety  of 
the  nation.^ 

As  the  day  of  bringing  in  the  Ark  to  Jerusalem  had 
Thesnprem-  been  the  greatest  day  of  the  life  of  David,  so 

acv  of  the  . ^ . 

King.  the  dedication  of  the  Temple  w^as  the  culminat- 
ing point  of  the  reign  of  Solomon.  In  the  whole  trans- 
action, nothing  is  more  remarkable  than  the  preemi- 
nence of  the  King  himself  over  every  one  else.  No 
Khalif,  no  Pontiff,  could  have  presided  more  supremely 
over  the  occasion  than  did  Solomon.  Zadok  never 
appears.  The  priests  are  mentioned  only  as  bearers  of 
the  Ark.  Even  the  Prophet  Nathan  is  only  mentioned 
by  heathen  historians.^  The  King  alone  prays,  sacrifices, 
blesses,  consecrates.  And,  as  if  to  keep  up  the  memory 
of  the  day,  thrice  a year,  throughout  his  reign,  on  the 
three  great  festivals,  he  solemnly  entered  not  only  the 
Temple  courts  with  sacrifices,^  but  penetrated  into  the 
Holy  Place  itself,  where  in  later  years  none  but  the 
Priests  were  allowed  to  enter,  and  offered  incense  on  the 
altar  of  incense.^  It  was  in  accordance  with  the  same 
principle  that  he  adopted  once  for  all  the  duties  of  the 
Priestly  order  as  originated  by  David,  which  continued 
to  the  end  of  the  Jewish  nation.^  It  is  characteristic  of 
the  free  and  religious  spirit  of  the  Jewish  Church,  that 

1 1 Kings  ix.  2-9  ; 2 Clir.  vii.  1 2-  Kings  Ix.  25.  This  Is  omitted  in 

i2.  2 Clir.  vlil.  13. 

2 Eupolemus,  in  Eusebius,  Prcep.  ^ 2 Clir.  viii.  14;  see  I Chr.  xxiii., 
Ev.  ix.  34. 

3 2 Chr.  viil.  13. 


xxiv. 


Lxct.  XXVII. 


ITS  PECULIARITIES 


245 


the  organized  hierarchical  system,  though  acting  from 
this  time,  took  its  rise  not  from  any  sacerdotal  arrange- 
ment, but  from  that  union  of  King  and  Priest  in  the 
person  of  Solomon,  which  had  been  already  fore- 
shadowed in  David,  and  which,  in  a moral  and  spir- 
itual sense,  was  to  be  realized  in  the  future  Messiah. 

Such  was  the  Temple  of  Solomon.  Its  peculiarities, 
as  a place  of  worship,  are  best  understood  by  a suc- 
cession of  contrasts. 

It  differed  from  the  former  sanctuary  of  the  Taber- 
nacle in  durability  and  in  splendor.  It  was  a Contrast 
house  instead  of  a tent ; a palace  instead  of  a Tabemade. 
hovel.  It  also  became  the  centre  of  a ceremonial  sys- 
tem, which  before  had  existed  but  very  imperfectly. 
The  collegiate  buildings  for  the  priests,^  their  weekly 
courses,  their  guard  by  night,  their  cleaning  of  the 
altar,  the  arrangements  for  the  slaughter  of  the  victims, 
all  date  more  or  less  from  this  time. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  differed  from  the  later  Temple 
of  Herod,  partly  by  its  more  primitive  charac-  wuh^ 
ter,  partly  by  its  greater  freedom.  The  wooden  Temple, 
covering  must  have  retained  something  of  the  almost 
savage  appearance  of  the  ancient  sanctuary  ; its  dimen- 
sions, too,  were  for  the  most  part  the  mere  double  of 
those  of  the  Tabernacle ; whereas  the  dimensions  of 
the  second  Temple,  at  least  in  its  courts  and  altar, 
extended  beyond  all  proportion  to  the  original  model. 
But  in  some  important  respects  there  was  a wider  adop- 
tion of  foreign  ideas  in  Solomon’s  Temple  than  was 
ever  the  case  before  or  after.  The  single  candelabrum, 
wliich  was  restored  by  imitation  in  the  second  Temple, 
was,  as  we  have  seen,  superseded  by  ten  candlesticks  in 
the  first.  The  colossal  cherubic  figures  in  the  Holy  of 

1 As  described  in  IVIishna — Joma  and  Tarnid.  Reiand,  Loc.  Sacr.  180. 


246 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XX\HI. 


Holies,  as  well  as  the  figures  of  lions  and  oxen,  which 
appeared  for  the  first  time  in  the  outer  court  of  the 
first  Temple,  are  condemned  by  Josephus^  as  contrary 
to  the  Second  Commandment,  and,  apparently,  had  no 
place  in  Herod’s  Temple.  The  adoption  of  Tyrian  and 
Egyptian  architecture  in  the  Temple  of  Solomon,  was 
only  in  part  retained  by  the  second.  The  likeness  of 
the  ancient  sacred  grove  which  adorned  the  first  was 
entirely  removed  in  the  second.^  Steps  to  the  altar, 
which  in  the  Tabernacle  ^ and  in  the  second  Temple  were 
forbidden  in  accordance  with  the  Levitical  law,  were 
allowed  by  Solomon.  The  barriers  which  divided  the 
Gentile  worshippers  from  the  outer  court,  and  the 
women  from  the  inner  court,  in  the  second  Temple,  had 
no  existence  in  the  first.  The  ancient  trophies  of  war, 
the  shields  of  David,  had  disappeared  from  the  porch, 
and  in  their  place  was  hung  the  colossal  cluster  of 
golden  grapes,  which  represented  the  new  idea  of  Israel 
under  the  figure  of  the  vine. 

Still  more  forcibly  is  the  peculiarity  of  the  Religion 
Contrast  whicli  tlio  Temple  represented  brought  out  by 
its  contrasts  both  with  Pagan  shrines  and 
Christian  churches.  Of  the  two  main  differences  from 
Pagan  Temples,  the  first  was  more  fully  brought  out  in 
the  sanctuary  of  Herod  than  in  that  of  Solomon,  but 
still  was  conspicuous  in  both ; namely,  the  absence  of 
any  statue  or  sacred  animal  to  represent  the  indwelling 
Divinity.  With  the  exception  of  the  cherubs,  whicli 
were  merely  ornamental  and  symbolical,  the  awestruck 
.lescription  of  Pompey  when  he  entered  the  Holy  of 
Holies  was  already  true, — Vacuum  sedcm^  inania  arcana!'^ 

1 Ant.  vill.  7,  § 5.  3 XX.  26. 

2 Ilccatacus,  In  Joscplius,  c.  Apion.,  ^ Jacitus,  Hist.  v.  9. 

. §22. 


Lect.  XXVIL 


ITS  PECULIARITIES 


247 


The  negative  theology,  so  to  speak,  of  the  Jewish  sys^ 
tern,  there  reached  its  highest  pitch.  There  was  noth- 
ing in  the  innermost  sanctuary  — and  yet  that  nothing 
was  everything.  The  second  distinction  was  the  Unity 
of  the  Temple.  A well-known  modern  writer  has  spoken 
of  ^Uhe  Temples”  of  Judea.  It  would  have  been  difficult 
for  a single  letter  to  have  betrayed  so  much  ignorance 
of  a whole  religious  system.  And  this  too  was  of 
supreme  importance  in  its  effects  on  the  nation.  Not 
only  did  the  fixedness  of  the  building  act  as  a check  on 
the  local  superstition  which  had  previously  attached  to 
the  Ark  and  to  the  Tabernacle,  moved  about  as  they 
were  like  charms  from  one  scene  of  danger  to  another, 
to  protect  the  hosts  or  the  Kings  of  Israel;  but  the 
centralization  of  the  religious  feeling  and  life  of  the 
nation  on  a single  spot,  acted  as  a protest  against  the 
tendency  to  isolated  and  multiplied  forms  of  worship, 
to  which,  as  we  see  from  the  subsequent  history,  the 
Israelites,  like  all  other  nations,  were  so  prone.  And 
the  Temple  became  in  consequence  a symbol  of  the 
unity  of  religious  and  national  life,  such  as  no  other 
ancient  sanctuary  could  exhibit.  The  great  size  of  the 
courts  compared  with  the  building  itself ; the  chambers 
and  guards ; the  union  on  one  spot  of  Forum,  Fortress, 
University,  Sanctuary,  was  peculiar  to  the  Temple  of 
Jerusalem.  This  was  the  full  meaning  of  the  oracle, 
here  probably  first  delivered,  and  the  key-note  of  much 
of  the  subsequent  history.  In  this  house,  and  in  Jem- 
Salem,  will  I put  my  name  for  ever.”^ 

These  were  the  points  of  difference  between  the  Tem- 
ple and  all  Pagan  sanctuaries.  In  most  other  with 
outward  respects,  as  it  resembled  them,  so  it  dif-  lurches, 
fered  from  all  Christian  churches,  though  more  nearly 

1 2 Kings  xxi.  4,  7 ; compare  1 Kings  viil.  29 ; ix.  3 ; xi.  36. 


248 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Leot.  XXVTL 


resembling  those  of  Eastern,  than  of  Western  Christen- 
dom. In  the  outer  courts,  the  widest  difference  was 
caused  by  the  presence  of  the  sacrificial  system  in  the 
Jewish,  and  its  absence  in  the  Christian  Avorship.  Every 
one  knows  the  peaceful  aspect  of  the  precincts  of  a 
Christian  cathedral.  It  needs  a strong  stretch  of  imag" 
illation  to  conceive  the  arrangements  for  sacrifice,  Avhich 
filled  the  Temple  courts  with  sheep,  and  oxen,  and 
goats,  with  blazing  furnaces,  with  pools  of  blood,  with 
masses  of  skins  and  offal,  with  columns  of  steam  and 
smoke.^  And  again,  the  contrast  of  the  darkness  and 
smallness  of  the  edifice  of  the  actual  Temple  with  the 
light  and  the  size  of  Christian  churches,  arose,  as  a mat- 
ter of  course,  from  the  circumstance  that  the  worship 
of  the  Jew  was  carried  on  round  the  altar  in  the  outer 
court ; whereas  the  worship  of  the  Christian  is  carried 
on  round  the  Holy  Table  within  the  inner  chancel.  The 
Jewish  Temple  would  have  been  contained  five  times 
over  within  one  of  our  great  cathedrals.  Christian 
congregations  of  men,  women,  and  children  penetrate, 
even  in  Eastern  churches,  into  the  interior  of  the  build- 
ing, where  in  the  Jewish  sanctuary  none  but  the  priests 
could  enter;  in  all  Western  churches,  even  into  the 
recesses  where  the  High  Priest  could  hardly  enter. 

But  there  are  points  of  connection  as  well  as  points 
of  contrast,  between  the  Jewish  Temple  and  a Christian 
church. 

The  Temple  itself  became  no  doubt  the  object  of  a 
local  veneration,  at  times  amounting  almost  to  idolatry. 
The  Jews  regarded  it  as  a talisman  that  was  to  guard 
them  in  spite  of  all  their  sins.^  The  Jews  in  the  siege 
of  Titus  clung  to  it  as  a refuge  in  the  last  agony  of 
their  nation.  The  Jews  at  the  present  day  recall  its 

1 See  Lecture  XXXV.  - Jcr.  vll.  4. 


Lkct.  XXVII. 


ITS  PECULIARITIES. 


249 


glories,  and  murmur  their  wailings  at  the  crevices  of  its 
walls,  with  a tenacity  unmatched  by  that  of  any  other 
people  to  any  other  building  in  the  ancient  world.”  ^ 
But,  nevertheless,  in  this  excess  of  local  devotion,  there 
was  a spiritual  and  moral  element. 

The  very  combination  of  a spiritual  religion  with  ma- 
terial splendor  and  foreign  art  in  such  a build-  Spiritual  as- 
ing,  carried  with  it  the  germs  of  all  Christian  Spie  wor- 
architecture,  and  the  principle  of  national  wor- 
ship  in  fixed  places  forever.  In  some  forms  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church,  even  its  outward  details  have  been  perpet- 
uated. The  name  at  least  of  the  altar  ” has  been  re- 
tained in  the  Roman  Catholic  and  Lutheran  Churches, 
and,  although  to  a very  limited  and  doubtful  extent,  in 
our  own.  The  name  and  partly  the  idea  of  the  Holy 
of  Holies  ” has  been  copied  in  the  Eastern  Church.  The 
architects  of  the  middle  ages,  and,  it  is  said,  the  Free- 
masons of  our  own  time,  made  a boast  of  tracing  back 
their  legendary  lore  and  strange  usages  to  those  of 
Solomon’s  Temple.  And  the  first  great  ecclesiastical 
builder  of  Christendom,  the  Emperor  Justinian,  when 
he  had  finished  the  first  metropolitan  cathedral  of  the 
world,  recurred  in  thought  to  his  first  imperial  proto- 
type, and  exclaimed,  I have  vanquished  thee,  0 Solo- 
mon.”  The  chief  entrance  to  the  national  sanctuary 
of  England  was  known  by  the  name  of  Solomon’s 
Porch.” 

The  concentration  of  public  life  round  the  Temple 
raised  the  whole  idea  of  worship  from  the  edifice  to  the 
people  who  encompassed,  and,  as  it  were,  absorbed  it 
The  transfer  of  the  image  of  ‘Hhe  Temple  ” to  the  con- 
gregration  or  community  of  the  Christian  Church  was 
such  as  could  not  have  taken  place,  had  the  Jewish  wor- 

1 Mr.  Fergusson,  art.  Temple,  in  Diet,  of  Bible. 


250 


THE  TEMPLE  OF  SOLOMON 


lect  XX vn 


ship  been  scattered  through  many  holy  plactis,  instead 
of  being  confined  to  one  particular  spot,  and  that  the 
capital  of  the  nation.  The  living  stones,”  the  spir- 
itual house,”  the  whole  building  fitly  framed  to- 
gether,  growing  into  a holy  Temple,”  on  its  chief 
corner-stone,”  the  pillars  in  the  Temple  of  God,”  ^ the 
reiterated  expression  of  ^^edification,”  in  the  first  in- 
stance derived  almost  literally  from  the  stones,  silently 
fitted  together,  and  rising  stage  above  stage,  in  the 
sacred  edifice,  — these  images,  so  full  of  meaning,  could 
never,  humanly  speaking,  have  occurred  to  the  Christian 
Apostles,  had  the  waving  curtains  of  the  nomadic  Tent 
not  been  replaced  by  the  solid  structure  of  the  Temple. 
They  spring  directly  from  those  great  buildings  and 
those  substructions,  which  still  remain  for  all  time  ” ^ 
in  a yet  higher  sense,  through  this  application  of  them, 
than  Solomon  or  his  successors  could  possibly  have 
anticipated. 

There  is  yet  another  point  in  which  Solomon  im- 
pressed on  his  design  a scope  and  meaning  of  lasting 
importance.  He  had  the  perception,  so  rare  in  those 
who  undertake  works  of  this  magnitude,  to  see  it  in  its 
due  proportions  to  the  higher  truth  which  it  repre- 
sented. The  first  public  recognition  of  Prayer  as  dis- 
tinct from  sacrifice — of  the  spiritual  as  distinct  from 
the  ceremonial  mode  of  approaching  God  — is  the 
Prayer  of  Solomon  at  the  Dedication  of  the  Temple. 
And  further,  in  this  moment  of  the  extremest  triumph 
of  ritual  and  material  worship,  was  uttered  one  of  the 
most  spiritual  truths  that  the  Old  Testament  contains. 
^ Behold  tlie  Heaven  and  the  Heaven  of  Heavens  can- 
‘‘not  contain  Thee  ; how  much  less  this  house  that  1 

1 1 Pet.  ii.  5;  E[)h.  li.  20,  21  ; iv.  2 Joseph.  xv.  11,  3. 

16;  Rev.  iii.  12. 


Lkct.  XXVIL 


ITS  PECULIARITIES. 


251 


have  builded.”  ^ The  combination  of  the  two  ideas  in 
this  remarkable  instance  has  to  some  extent  held  them 
together  since.  The  very  magnificence  of  the  occasion 
which  then  set  them  forth  is  a guarantee  that  they 
need  never  be  divided.  And  therefore,  when  the  first 
voice  arose  in  the  Christian  Church  to  proclaim  the 
annihilation  of  the  local  sanctity  even  of  the  Temple 
itself,  this  absolute  assertion  of  spiritual  freedom  was 
based  on  the  recognition  of  Solomon’s  place  in  the  long 
succession  of  the  founders  of  the  Holy  Places  of  Israel. 

Solomon  built  Him  an  house,”  says  St.  Stephen. 
^Hlowbeit  the  Most  High  dwelleth  not  in  temples  made 
with  hands.  . . . Heaven  is  My  throne,  and  earth  My 
footstool ; what  house  wiU  ye  build  Me  ? saith  the 
“ Lord  : or  what  is  the  place  of  My  rest  ? Hath  not  My 
hand  made  all  these  things  ? ” ^ 

Pull  down  the  nests,  and  the  rooks  will  fly  away,” 
is  the  well-known  maxim  which  is  said  to  have  sha1> 
tered  to  the  ground  the  cathedral  of  St.  AndreAv’s,  and 
the  abbeys  and  churches  of  Scotland.  But  Solomon 
saw  that  even  the  splendor  of  the  Temple  might  be  a 
safeguard,  not  a destruction,  of  the  highest  ideas  of 
spiritual  worship.  There  is  a superstition  in  denounc- 
ing religious  art,  as  well  as  in  clinging  to  it.  There  is 
no  inherent  connection  between  ugliness  and  godliness. 
There  was  a danger  of  superstition  in  the  rough  planks 
and  black  hair-cloth  of  the  Tabernacle,  closer  at  hand 
than  in  the  gilded  walls  and  marble  towers  of  the 
Temple.  There  is  a wisdom,  in  the  policy  of  John 
Knox ; but  there  is  a still  higher  wisdom  in  the  Prayer 
of  Solomon. 


1 1 Kings  vlii.  27  ; 2 Chr.  vi.  18. 


2 Acts  vii.  47-50. 


LECTURE  XXVm. 


THE  WISDOM  OF  SOLOMON. 

The  reign  of  Solomon  has  sometimes  been  called  the 
Augustan  age  of  the  Jewish  nation.  But  there  was 
this  peculiarity,  that  Solomon  was  not  only  its  Augus- 
tus, but  its  Aristotle.  Fabulous  as  is  the  Rabbinical 
tradition,  it  has  curiously  caught  hold  of  a truth  in 
describing  how,  when  Alexander  took  Jerusalem,  ho 
captured  the  works  of  Solomon,  and  sent  them  to  Aris- 
totle, who  thence  derived  all  that  was  good  in  his 
philosophy.^ 

Jewish  literature  had  already  began  to  unfold  itself 
in  a systematic  form  at  the  first  beginning  of  the 
monarchy.  Music  and  poetry  w^ere  specially  developed 
and  concentred  in  the  Prophetic  schools  of  Samuel ; 
and  to  the  earlier  warlike  bursts  of  the  poetic  spirit  of 
the  nation,  had  been  now  added  David,  the  first  founder 
of  the  Sacred  Poetry  of  Judea  and  of  the  world.  The 
Book  of  Judges,  at  least,  had  been  composed  in  its 
present  form,  and  the  first  distinct  notices  of  historical 
narrative  appear  in  the  record  of  the  lost  works  of 
Samuel,  Gad,  and  Nathan. 

But,  with  the  accession  of  Solomon,  a new  world 
of  thought  was  opened  to  the  Israelites.  The  curtain 
which  divided  them  from  the  surrounding  nations  was, 
as  w'e  have  seen,  suddenly  rent  asunder.  The  wonders 
of  Egypt,  the  commerce  of  Tyre,  the  romance  of  Arabia, 

1 Fabricius,  Cod.  Pseud,  ii.  1019. 


Lect  XXVIII. 


ITS  PECULIARITY. 


253 


aay,  it  is  even  possible,  the  Homeric  age  of  Greece, 
became  visible.  Of  this,  the  first  and  most  obvious 
result  was  the  growth  of  architecture.  But  the  general 
effects  on  the  whole  mind  of  the  people  must  have 
been  greater  still.  A new  direction  seems  to  have  been 
given  to  Israelite  thought.  Prophets  and  Psalmists 
retire  into  the  background,  and  their  place  is  taken  by 
the  new  power  called  by  the  name  of  Wisdom.”  Its 
two  conspicuous  examples  are  the  wisdom  of  Egypt 
and  the  wisdom  of  the  Children  of  the  East,  that  is,  of 
the  Idumman^  Arabs.  Four  renowned  sages  appear  as 
its  exponents.  Ethan  the  Ezrahite,  and  Heman,  and 
Chalcol,  and  Darda,  the  sons  of  Mahol.^  It  would 
almost  seem  as  if  a kind  of  college  had  been  founded 
for  this  special  purpose,  — a house  of  wisdom  on 

seven  pillars.”^  A class  of  men  sprang  up,  distinct 
both  from  Priest  and  Prophet,  under  the  name  of  the 
Wise.”  ^ Their  teaching,  their  manner  of  life  was  un- 
like that  of  either  of  those  two  powerful  orders.  The 
thing  and  the  name  had  been  almost  unknown  before. 
In  a restricted  sense,  the  word  had  been  used  of  the 
Danite  architects  of  the  Tabernacle,^  and  in  a some- 
what larger  sense  of  two  ® or  three  remarkable  persons 
in  David’s  reign.  But  from  this  time  forward,  the  word 
occurs  in  the  sacred  writings  at  least  three  hundred 
times.  What  it  was  will  best  be  perceived  by  see- 
ing it  in  its  greatest  representative.  A change  must 
have  come  over  the  nation  any  way  through  the  new 
world  which  he  opened.  But  it  was  fixed  and  mag- 

1 1 Kings  Iv.  30;  comp.  Jer.  xllx.  18;  (comp.  Ezek.  vii.  26.)  See 

7 ; Obad.  8.  Bruch,  Weislieitslehre  der  Hehrder^ 

2 1 Kings  iv.  30.  p.  48,  49. 

3 Proverbs  ix.  1.  5 Exod.  xxxi.  3,  6. 

* Hacdmim  ; Prov.  i.  6 ; xlli.  20  ; xv.  ® 2 Sam.  xiv.  2 ; xx.  16 

12;  xxii.  17  ; Isa.  xxix.  14  ; Jer.  xviii. 


254 


THE  WISDOM  OF  SOLOMON 


Lect.  XX^HII. 


nified  by  finding  such  a mind  to  receive  it.  His 
wisdom  excelled  the  wisdom  ” of  any  one  of  his  time 
From  his  early  years  its  germs  had  been  recognized. 
It  may  be  that  there  was  something  hereditary  in  the 
gift.  Prudence  ” ^ was  one  of  the  conspicuous  quali- 
ties of  his  father,  and  of  his  two  cousins,  the  sons  of 
Shimeah.  The  almost  supernatural  sagacity  of  Ahitho- 
phel  may  have  been  in  his  mother’s  famil}^,  and  (if 
we  may  apply  to  Solomon  the  advice  given  to  King 
Lemuel  ^ by  his  mother)  Bathsheba  herself  must  have 
been  worthy  of  her  husband  and  her  son.  Ho  accord- 
ing  to  thy  wisdom.  . . . Thou  art  a wise  man  and 
knowest  what  thou  oughtest  to  do  unto  him,”  ® — are 
amongst  his  father’s  charges  to  him  in  his  youth.  The 
Lord  hath  given  unto  David  a wise  son,”  is  Hiram’s 
congratulation.^  If  we  may  take  as  literal  the  de- 
scription in  the  Book  of  Proverbs,  David  had  foreseen 
the  importance  of  this  gift  for  his  son,  and  repeatedly 
urged  it  upon  him : Get  wisdom,  get  understanding ; 

wisdom  is  the  principal  thing ; get  wisdom ; with  all 
thy  getting,  get  understanding.  She  shall  be  to  thy 
head  an  ornament  of  praise  ; a crown  of  glory  shall 
she  deliver  to  thee.”  ^ 

I.  The  first  characteristic  of  this  wusdom  was  care- 
fully defined  liy  Solomon  himself  in  the  dream 
Bis  justice.  understanding  to  judge 

^Hhe  people,  to  judgments  This  was  the  original 

meaning  of  the  word.  It  was  the  calm,  judicial  dis- 
cretion, which  was  intended  to  supersede  the  passionate, 
chivalrous,  irregular  impulses  of  the  former  age.  The 

1 The  word  translated  “ wisely  ” in  tlfied  with  Solomon  by  the  Jewish 
1 Sam.  xviii.  5,  14,  15,  30,  is  not  that  terpreters. 

which  is  so  rendered  in  the  case  of  ^1  Kings  il.  6,  9. 

Solomon.  ^ Ibid.  v.  7. 

2 Prov.  xxxi.  1.  Lemuel  is  iden-  * Prov.  iv.  5-9. 


Lbct  xxvm 


HIS  JUSTICE. 


255 


maladministration  of  justice  by  the  sons  of  Samuel  had 
been  one  ground  for  the  establishment  of  the  monarchy. 
In  Solomon’s  reign,  it  seemed  as  if  the  change  were 
to  be  completely  justified.  The  first  example  was  the 
keen-sighted  appeal  to  the  instincts  of  nature,  in  the 
judgment  between  the  two  mothers.  Of  a like  kind  is 
the  Oriental  tradition  ^ which  describes  how  he  peace- 
fully adjudicated  between  two  claimants  to  the  same 
treasure,  by  determining  that  the  son  of  the  one  should 
marry  the  daughter  of  the  other.  ^^The  poor,”  ^Hhe 
^^poor,”  ^Hhe  needy,”  ^Hhe  oppressed,”  ^^the  needy,” 
^Hhe  poor,”  ^Hhe  helpless,”  ^^the  poor,”  -’Hhe  needy,” 
the  needy,”  “ the  sufferers  from  violence  and  deceit,” 
are  mentioned  with  pathetic  reiteration  as  under  his 
especial  protection — judged,”  saved,”  delivered,” 
‘^spared,”  redeemed”  by  him;  precious  shall  their 
blood  be  in  his  sight.”  ^ In  the  Proverbs  it  occurs 
again  and  again.  The  King  hy  judgment  establisheth 
the  land.”  ^ The  throne  of  the  King  shall  be  estab- 
lished  in  justice^  ^ The  King  that  faithfully  judge th 
" the  poor,  his  throne  shall  be  established  for  ever.”  ® 
In  later  times,  this  image  has  been  either  superseded 
by  his  more  splendid  qualities,  or  overcast  by  the 
gloom  of  his  later  years.  But  in  his  own  reign,  it  must 
have  been  the  basis  of  his  greatness.  ^^All  Israel  heard 
of  the  judgment  which  the  King  had  judged,  and 
they  feared  the  King,”  — young  as  he  was,  — for  they 
saw  that  the  tvisdoyn  of  God  was  in  him  to  do  judgments 
And  not  only  in  his  own  age,  but  long  afterwards,  did 
the  recollection,  of  that  serene  reign  keep  alive  the  idea 
of  a just  king  before  the  eyes  of  the  people,  and  enable 

1 Weir’s  Legends,  1(54.  4 Prov.  xxv.  5. 

* Ps.  Ixxii.  2,  4,  12,  13,  14.  5 Ibid.  xxix.  14. 

® Prov.  xxix.  4. 


250 


THE  WISDOM  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVIIL 


th6iii  to  understand  how  there  should  once  again  appear 
at  the  close  of  their  history  a still  greater  Son  of  David. 
When  the  Prophet  describes  that  this  new  Prince  of 
the  house  of  Jesse  is  to  be  endowed,  as  Solomon,  with 
“ the  spirit  of  wisdom  and  understanding,  of  counsel 
“ and  might,  of  knowledge  and  of  the  fear  of  the  Lord, 
the  special  manifestation  of  His  spirit  is  that  “ he  shall 
“ not  judge  after  the  sight  of  his  eyes,  neither  reprove 
“ after  the  hearing  of  his  ears.  But  with  righteousness 
“ shall  he  judge  the  poor,  and  reprove  with  equity  for 
“ the  meek  of  the  earth ; and  righteousness  shall 
« be  the  girdle  of  his  loins,  and  faithfulness  the  girdle 
“of  his  reins.” ^ When  we  reflect  how  slowly  Christen- 
dom has  arrived  at  perceiving  the  paramount  impor- 
tance of  Justice,  how  many  centuries  passed  before  it 
was  applied  at  all  to  matters  of  religion,  how  reluc- 
tant we  are  even  now  to  acknowledge  it  as  the  crown- 
ing grace  of  Christian  civilization,  how  unwilling  to 
' adniit  it  as  the  rule  of  Christian  controversies,  _ we 
shall  see  how  far  beyond  the  age  was  this  distinct 
recognition  of  it  in  the  Hebrew  Scriptures ; however 
much  it  may  often  seem  to  have  taken  flight  from  the 
aro-uments  and  the  practices  of  the  Christian  Church, 
we  may  still  shelter  ourselves  under  its  precedents,  so 
firmly  established  by  Solomon  in  the  Church  of  the 

Jews.  , , 1 X • 

II.  Closely  allied  with  this  is  another  characteristic 

of  the  wisdom  of  Solomon,  his  “largeness  of 
hensiveneas.  4£  eveii  as  tlio  Sand  that  is  on  the  sea- 

shore”^ This  breadth  of  view  is  one  of  the  aspects 
which  “wisdom”  assumes  in  the  only  case  where  it  is 
expressly  named  in  the  reign  of  David.  When  ^ab 
invoked  the  aid  of  the  “wise”  woman  of  Tekoah,  to 

2 1 Kings  iv.  29. 


1 Isa.  xi.  1-5. 


Lect.  xxvm. 


ITS  EXTENT. 


257 


reconcile  David  to  his  son,  her  whole  argument  is  based 
on  the  grandeur  of  the  large  and  comprehensive  grasp 
with  which  a king  should  treat  the  complex  difficulties 
of  human  character.  She  speaks  of  the  irreparable 
death  which  is  the  universal  lot  of  all  men,  as  water 
spilt  on  the  ground,  which  cannot  be  gathered  up 
again.”  She  appeals  to  the  universal  sympathy  of  God 
for  His  lost  creatures  ; He  doth  devise  means  that  His 
banished  be  not  expelled  from  Him.”  She  appeals  to 
the  superhuman  wisdom”  of  David,  as  able  to  hear 
and  bear  with  good  and  evil ; and  to  know  ” — not 
this  or  that  form  of  temper  only  — but  all  things  that 
are  in  the  earth.”  ^ That  dialogue  contains  the  germ 
of  Solomon’s  greatness.  His  wisdom  ” seems  to  have 
supplied  to  him  something  of  that  moral  elevation  of 
sentiment  which  otherwise  was  peculiar  to  the  Prophet- 
ical Office.  Founder,  as  in  a ceitain  sense  he  was,  of 
the  Holy  Places  and  hierarchal  system  of  Israel,  yet 
his  policy  has  never,  even  by  the  most  suspicious  of 
modern  critics,  been  charged  with  superstition  or  undue 
submission  to  the  sacerdotal  order.  The  sanctity  of  the 
right  of  asylum,  in  the  cases  of  Joab  and  Adonijah,^  he 
fearlessly  disregarded.  The  succession  of  one  branch 
of  the  Aaronic  family  he  rudely  broke  asunder.  In 
the  Temple,  as  we  have  seen,  he  never  allowed  its 
external  magnificence^  to  outweigh  his  sense  of  the 
spiritual  character  of  the  Divinity,  or  of  the  moral 
obligations  of  man.  ^^To  do  justice  and  judgment  is 
more  acceptable  to  the  Lord  than  sacrifice.”  This 
maxim  of  the  Proverbs  ^ was  a bold  saying  then,  it  is 
a bold  saying  still ; but  it  well  unites  the  wisdom  of 

I 2 Sam.  xiv.  2,  14,  17  (Heb.),  20.  » See  Lecture  XXVII. 

* See  Lecture  XXVI.  4 Prov.  xxi.  3. 

TOL.  n.  17 


258 


THE  WISDOM  OE  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  xxvm 


Solomon  with  that  of  his  father  David  in  the  51st  Psalm, 
and  with  the  inspiration  of  the  later  Prophets. 

III.  Coextensive  with  the  all-embracing  character  of 
Solomon’s  wisdom,  was  its  far-spread  fame,  and  its 
variety  of  parts.  Both  alike  are  spoken  of,  the  one  as 
the  counterpart  of  the  other.  “ Thy  soul  covered  the 
“ whole  earth,  and  filled  it  with  dark  parables.  . . . The 
“countries  marvelled  at  thee  for  thy  interpretations, 
“ and  songs,  and  proverbs,  and  parables.”' 

1.  Of  all  these  outward  forms,  that  which  seems  to 
have  gathered  the  widest  renown  in  his  own 
iii,  riddles.  questioning  and  answering,  “ the 

“interpretations,”  of  hard  questions  and  riddles.  The 
climax  of  the  definition  of  wisdom  is  “ the  understand- 
“ ino-  of  a proverb,  and  the  interpretation ; the  words 
“of  the  wise,  and  their  dark  sayings.”^  The  kings  and 
chiefs  around  seem  to  have  been  stimulated  by  his 
example,  or  by  their  example  to  have  stimulated  him, 
to  carry  on  this  kind  of  Socratic  dialogue  with  each 
other.  Examples  of  them  seem  to  be  found  in  the 
Book  of  Proverbs,  especially  in  the  words  of  Agur. 
“What  are  the  six  things  that  the  Lord  hateth?”* 
“What  are  the  two  daughters  of  the  horseleech?” 
“ AVhat  are  the  three  things  that  are  never  satisfied  ? 
“the  three  things  that  are  too  wonderful?  the  three 
“ things  that  disquiet  the  earth  ? the  four  things  that 
“ are  little  and  wise  ? the  four  things  that  are  comely 
“in  going?”'  The  historians  of  Tyre  recorded  that 


Compare  in  tlie  Mnasulman  le"on<ls  most  lioautiful  tiling?  ^ (Answd, 
_ “ Wlmt  is  Evervlliing  ami  what  is  “ The  apostasy  of  a believer  - the 
Nothing?”  (Answer,  “ God  and  the  repentance  of  a sinner.”)  Wed,  166. 


1 Ecclus.  xlvil.  14-17. 

2 Prov.  i.  G. 

3 Ibid.  vl.  IG. 

4 Ibid.  XXX.  15,  IG,  18,  21,  24,  29 


world.”)  “ Who  is  something  and 
who  is  less  than  nothing  ? ” (Answer,, 
“The  believer  and  tlie  hypocrite”) 
“What  is  the  vilest  and  what  the 


Lmcr.  XXVIII. 


HIS  RIDDLES. 


259 


this  interchange  of  riddles  went  on  constantly  between 
Solomon  and  Hiram,  each  being  under  the  engagement 
to  pay  a forfeit  of  money  for  every  riddle  that  he  could 
not  solve.  Solomon  got  the  better  of  Hiram  till  Hiram 
set  to  work  a Tyrian  boy,  the  younger  son  of  Abde- 
mon,  who  both  solved  the  riddles  of  Solomon,  and  set 
others  which  Solomon  could  not  answer.^  But  the  most 
remarkable  instance  was  one  which  has  left  its  traces 
in  both  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  and  in 
the  boundless  fancies  of  later  tradition.  A 
chieftainess,  a queen  from  some  distant  country,  was 
attracted,  by  the  widespread  accounts  of  his  wisdom, 
to  come  herself  in  person  to  put  these  riddles  to  him. 
Her  long  train  of  camels  lived  in  the  recollection  of  the 
Israelites,  as  bringing  gifts  of  gold,  precious  stones,  and 
balsam,  to  her  host.^  A memorial  of  her  visit  was  long 
believed  to  remain  in  the  balsam  gardens  of  Jericho.^ 
Like  Hiram,  she  was  worsted  in  the  unequal  conflict. 
All  her  questions  were  answered,  and  the  magnificence 
of  the  court,  especially  of  the  state ^ entrance  to  the 
Temple,  was  such  that  there  was  no  more  spirit  left 
in  her.”  But  it  was  his  wisdom  ” chiefly  which  dwelt 
in  her  mind.  Happy  are  thy  wives,  happy  are  these 
thy  servants,  who  stand  continually  before  thee,j  and 
hear  thy  wisdom.”  ^ 

So  romantic  an  incident  could  not  but  provoUe  the 
desire  to  fill  up  what  the  Biblical  account  leaves  linsaid. 
The  legends  divide  themselves  into  two  classes.  Those 

1 Josephus,  j.  Apian,  i.  17,  18;  in  LXX.,  and  Josephus,  4^^-  viii.  6, 

Ant.  viii.  5,  § 3.  § 5.  But  2 Chron,  ix.  4 (where  the 

2 1 Kings  X.  2;  2 Chr.  ix.  1.  word  is  peculiar),  and  Ezek.  xl.  26, 

3 Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  6,  § 6 ; and  confirm  the  common  view. 

the  passages  cited  in  Robinson,  Bib.  ^ 1 Kings  x.  8 (LXX.).  See  Lect- 
Ties.  i.  559.  ure  XXVII. 

4 1 Kings  X.  5.  Or  “ offerings,”  as 


260 


THE  WISDOM  OF  SOLOMON. 


lect.  xxvin. 


of  Abyssinia,  fortified  by  the  Arabic  translation,  Queen 
of  the  Southl'^  represented  her  as  coming  from  Meroe. 
Of  this  it  is  some  slight  confirmation  that  Josephus 
calls  her  Queen  of  Egypt  and  Ethiopia,^  and  that 
Meroe  unquestionably  was  ruled  by  queens.  This 
story  gives  to  her  the  name  of  Makeda,  and  represents 
her  as  bearing  a child  to  Solomon  (Melimelek),  from 
whom  the  present  sovereigns  of  Abyssinia  claim  de- 
scent,® and  either  to  the  fact  or  the  story  are  to  be  as- 
cribed the  traditions  of  Solomon  and  of  Jewish  usages 
that  so  strongly  mark  the  Abyssinian  Church,  and  it  is 
curious  that  the  most  degraded  and  barbarous  of  Chris- 
tian churches  should  thus  claim  to  be  the  representa- 
tive of  the  highest  and  most  civilized  period  of  the 
Church  of  Israel. 

The  Arab  tradition  rests,  perhaps,  on  a safer  founda- 
tion. Sheba  ” naturally  points  to  the  Arabian  Sabaea, 
as  also  do  the  gifts  brought,  and  the  probability  that 
she  might  have  heard  the  rumors  of  his  wisdom 
through  the  fleets  of  Ophir.  Her  name  in  this  version 
was  Balkis.^  Many  were  the  trials  of  wit  recorded. 
One  of  the  spirits,  at  the  bidding  of  Solomon’s  vizier, 
transported  the  throne  of  Balkis  to  Jerusalem,  and 
Solomon  had  it  altered,  in  order  to  conceal  its  identity. 
She  approaclied,  and  it  was  asked  of  her,  ‘Ms  this  like 
“ thy  throne  ? ” She  saw  through  their  meaning,  and 
answered,  with  a union  of  penetration  and  courtesy 
which  charmed  them  all,  “It  seems  to  be  the  same.” 
She,  on  the  other  hand,  had  sent  two  troops,  of  boys 

^ Compare  IMatt.  xil.  42.  nusiitioiuMl  l>y  Herodotus  (^Ant.  viii-  C 

2 Ant.  viii.  6,  § 5.  He  belleve.s  that  § 2). 
the  IMiaraohs  came  to  an  end  with  ^ Ludolf,  Ai^lhiop.  ii.  3. 

Solomon’s  father-in-law,  and  that  she  ^ D’llerbelot, 
was  the  Queen  Nitocris  (Ni(;aule) 


Lect.  XXVIII. 


HIS  RIDDLES. 


261 


dressed  like  girls,  and  of  girls  dressed  like  boys,  nose^ 
gays  of  artificial  flowers  to  be  distinguished  from  real 
ones  by  the  sight  alone,  and  also  a diamond  to  be 
threaded,  and  a goblet  to  be  filled  with  water,  neither 
from  the  clouds  nor  the  earth.  Solomon  detected  the 
boys  and  girls  by  their  different  manner  of  washing,, 
the  difference  in  the  nosegays  he  discovered  by  letting 
the  bees  in  upon  them,  and  he  sent  a worm  which 
passed  a silken  thread  through  the  intricate  perforar 
tions  of  the  diamond,  and  then  as  its  reward  received 
the  mulberry-tree  for  its  future  habitation,  A huge 
slave  was  set  to  gallop  to  and  fro  on  a fiery  horse ; 
and  from  the  torrents  of  his  perspiration  the  goblet 
was  filled.  He  then  married  her,  and  although  she 
returned  to  Arabia  he  spent  in  every  year  three 
months  in  her  company.  On  her  death,  the  genii 
carried  her  body,  by  his  orders,  to  Tadmor,  where  her 
grave  is  still  concealed  beneath  the  ruins  of  Palmyra.^ 

The  effort  implied  by  this  strange  bringing  together 
of  remote  characters  for  one  purpose,  has  given  to  it 
alone  of  the  events  of  Solomon’s  reign  a place  in  the 
New  Testament.  '^^The  Queen  of  the  South  shall  rise 
^^up  in  the  judgment  with  this  generation,  and  shall 

condemn  it:  for  she  came  from  the  uttermost  parts 
‘^of  the  earth  to  hear  the  wisdom  of  Solomon.”^  Nor 
is  this  selection  unworthy  of  the  general  interest  of 
the  story.  The  spirit  of  this  asking  of  questions  and 
solving  of  dark  riddles  is  of  the  very  nature  of  the 
Socratic  wisdom  itself  To  ask  questions  rightly,” 
said  Lord  Bacon,  is  the  half  of  knowledge.”  Life 
“ without  cross-examination  is  no  life  at  all,”  said 
Socrates.  And  of  this  stimulating  process,  of  this 

^ Weil’s  Legends^  104-21}  ; Koran,  2 Matt.  xii.  42. 
xxvii.  20-45 ; Lane’s  Selections^ 

236-241 


262  THE  WISDOM  OF  SOLOMON.  Lect.  KXrai  | 

r. 

eager  inquiry,  of  this  cross-examining  of  our  thoughts,  : 
bringing  new  meanings  out  of  old  words  — Solomon  . 
is  the  first  example.  When  we  inquire,  when  we  ques- 
tion, when  we  are  restless  in  our  search  after  truth,  i 
when  we  seek  it  from  unexpected  quarters,  we  are  but  ; 
following  in  the  steps  of  the  wise  King  of  Judah,  and  : 
the  wise  Queen  of  Sheba. 

2.  But  farther,  Solomon  was,  at  least  in  one  great 
branch,  the  founder,  the  only  representative, 

xllS  SC1611C6*  - _ _ * 

not  merely  of  Hebrew  wisdom,  but  of  Hebrew 
science.  As  Alexander’s  conquests  had  supplied  the  < 
materials  for  the  first  natural  history  of  Greece,  so  Sol-  i 
omon’s  commerce  did  the  like  for  the  first  natural  ) 
history  of  Israel.  He  spake  of  trees,”  from  the  high-  i 
est  to  the  lowest,  ^Hrom  the  spreading  cedar-tree  of  | 
‘^Lebanon  to  the  slender  caper-plant  that  springs  out  ■ 
of  the  crevice  of  the  wall.  He  spake  also  of  beasts,  ■ 
and  of  fowls,  and  of  creeping  things,  and  of  fishes.”  ‘ 
We  must  look  at  him  as  the  first  great  naturalist  of  the 
world,  in  the  midst  of  the  strange  animals  — the  apes,  ;; 
the  peacocks  — which  he  had  collected  from  India  j in 
the  garden,  among  the  copious  springs  of  Etham,  or  in 
the  bed  of  the  deep  ravine  beneath  the  wall  of  his  : 
newly  erected  temple,  where,  doubtless,  was  to  be  seen  > 
the  transplanted  cedar,  superseding  the  humble  syca- 
more of  Palestine;^  the  paradise  ” of  rare  plants, 
gathered  from  liirand  near, — pomegranates,  with  pleas- 
“ant  fruits;  camphire,  witli  spikenard,  spikenard  and 
“saffron,  calamus,  and  cinnamon,  witli  all  trees  of  frank- 
“ incense;  myrrh  and  aloes,  with  all  the  chief  spices.”^ 
The  Arabian  traditions  have  founded  on  this  char- 
acteristic of  Solomon  the  numerous  fables  of  his  inter- 


1 1 Kings  X.  ‘27;  2 Chr.  ix.  27. 
> Eccl.  ii.  6 (Ileb.). 


3 Cant.  iv.  13,  14. 


Lbct.  XXVIII. 


HIS  SCIENCE. 


263 


course  with  birds,  with  whom  he  conversed,  both  on 
‘^account  of  their  delicious  language,  which  he  knew  as 
^^well  as  his  own,  as  also  for  the  beautiful  proverbs, 
which  are  current  amongst  them.”  The  lapwing  was 
his  special  favorite.  The  cock  and  the  hoopoe  were  his 
constant  attendants.  Clouds  of  birds  formed  the  canopy 
of  his  throne  and  of  his  litter.  The  doves  were  to  live 
in  his  Temple.  They  multiplied  so  rapidly  from  the 
stroke  of  his  hand  that  he  could  walk  to  the  Temple 
from  the  market  quarter  of  the  city  under  cover  of 
their  wings.^  The  more  prosaic  mind  of  Josephus  has 
rather  inclined  to  see  in  the  Biblical  account  of  Solo- 
mon’s natural  science  his  tendency  to  draw  parables 
from  every  form  of  vegetable  and  animal  life,  — a sup- 
position probably  suggested  by  the  appeals  to  the  ant.^ 
But,  on  one  point,  the  sober  Jew  and  the  wild  Arab  are 
agreed.  Both  represent  Solomon’s  science  to  have  ex- 
tended beyond  the  limits  of  the  natural  world  into  the 
regions  of  magic  and  demoniacal  agency.  According 
to  Arabian  legends,  he  ruled  the  genii  with  an  absolute 
sway  by  his  signet-ring.  At  his  command  they  built 
the  Temple  and  the  walls  of  Tadmor  and  of  Baalbec ; 
on  their  wings  he  rode  to  and  fro,  breakfasting  at 
Persepolis,  dining  at  Baalbec,®  supping  at  Jerusalem. 
Under  his  throne  he  buried  their  magical  books.^  Ac- 
cording to  Josephus,  incantations  for  the  cure  of  dis- 
orders, exorcisms  for  casting  out  demons,  said  to  have 
been  discovered  by  Solomon,  were  still  used  ® in  Pales- 
thie  in  his  own  time. 

1 Weil’s  Legend^^  172,  173,  186;  5 Josephus,  yln<.  viii.  2,  § 5.  These, 

Lane’s  Selections,  235.  or  the  like  of  them,  were  handed  on 

^ Prov.  vi.  6-8  ; xxx.  25  ; Josephus,  to  Christian  times,  under  the  names 
Ant.  viii.  2,  § 5.  of  the  key  of  Solomon,  &c.  (See 

® Chardin,  iii.  135,  143;  Weil,  l/fe.  Fabricius.) 

* Weil,  175-213. 


264 


THE  WISDOM  OF  SOLOMON. 


lect.  XX  vm 


It  is  remarkable  tliat  of  these  occult  powers  there  is 
not  the  shghtest  trace  in  the  sacred  writings. 

nothing  of  his  magic.  But  of  his 
science  they  tell  enough  to  show  us  that,  in  pursuing 
this  gi^eat  study,  we  are  his  true  followers ; that  the 
geologist,  the  astronomer,  but  especially  the  botanist 
and  the  naturalist,  may  claim  him  as  their  first  professor. 
They  tell  us  this,  and  they  tell  us  no  more,  in  order  to 
impress  upon  us  also,  that  science  is  not  the  object  of 
the  Bible,  — it  is  concerned  with  other  and  yet  higher 
matters.  Lord  Bacon,  in  a striking  passage  in  the  New 
Atlantis,”  represents  the  governor  of  the  island  as  speak- 
ing to  strangers  of  the  treasures  of  Solomon’s  books 
on  all  plants,  and  on  all  things  that  have  life  and  mo- 
‘Hion”  — lost  to  us,  but  preserved  there.  A fond  wish,  a 
happy  fancy,  but  not  a reality.  If  the  object  of  Kevela- 
tion  had  been  to  teach  us  the  wonders  of  the  natural 
creation,  to  anticipate  Linna3us  and  Cuvier,  here  was 
the  time,  here  was  the  occasion,  here  were  the  works 
on  Hebrew  science  ready  to  be  enrolled  at  once  in  the 
canon  of  Scripture.  But  not  so.  They  have  passed 
away.  We  have  the  advantage  of  Solomon’s  example, 
but  we  have  not  the  advantage,  or,  it  may  be,  the  dis- 
advantage, of  his  speculations  and  his  discoveries. 

3.  From  his  riddles  and  his  science  we  pass  to  his 
poetry.  His  songs  were  a thousand  and  five,” 
IS  tongs.  thousand.”  ^ Of  these,  again,  the  larger 

part  must  be  lost.  Amongst  the  Psalms,  only  four,  the 
2d,  the  45th,  the  72d,  and  127th  (these  two  hust.by  their 
titles,  and  all,  to  a certain  extcmt,  liy  their  subjects)  can 
claim  any  direct  connection  with  tSoloinon  himself 
Two — the  88th  and  the  89th  — are  ascribed  to  his 
contemjioraries,  Heman  and  lithan.  Asaph,  the  alleged 

^ 1 Kltigs  Iv.  .32  and  LXX.). 


Lkot.  xxvni. 


ms  SONGS. 


266 


author  of  so  many  psalms,  is,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the 
Arabian  legends,  but  without  any  Biblical  ground,  sup- 
posed to  be  his  vizier.  Eighteen  apocryphal  psalms  of 
Solomon’s  remain,  once  incorporated  in  the  Psalter,  or 
between  the  Books  of  Wisdom  and  Ecclesiasticus,  of 
which  the  Hebrew  original  is  lost,  but  which  are  pre- 
served to  us  in  a Greek  translation.  They  were  prob- 
ably written  after  the  profanation  of  the  Temple  ^ by 
Antiochus.  There  is  nothing  in  them  which  specially 
attaches  them  to  the  history  of  Solomon,  unless  it  bo 
their  plaintive  strain,  and  their  lament  over  his  beloved 
sanctuary. 

The  real  Songs  of  Solomon  were  probably  of  a more 
secular  kind.  The  well-known  book  called  the  ^^Song 
of  Songs,”  Cantica  Canticorum,”  The  Canticles,”  — 
although  our  own  Hebrew  scholar,  Kennicott,  supposed 
it  to  be  of  the  time  of  Ezra, — has  by  the  profoundest 
modern  scholars  (I  need  only  mention  the  great  name 
of  Ewald)  been  ascribed  to  the  age,  if  not  to  the  pen, 
of  Solomon.  Into  the  infinitely  various  interpretations  * 
of  the  intention  and  arrangement  of  the  book,  we  need 
not  here  inquire.  From  so  vexed  and  obscure  a con- 
troversy no  permanent  light  can  be  thrown  on  the 
career  of  Solomon.  But  for  our  present  purpose,  its 
outward  historical  imagery  and  form,  as  it  is  the  most 
clear,  so  it  is  the  most  important.  The  scene  is  such  as 
could  have  been  laid  in  Solomon’s  Court,  and  in  no 
other  period.  In  form  it  is  the  most  direct  sanction 
which  the  sacred  writings  contain  of  the  dramatic  ele- 
ment. We  almost  start  at  the  word.  But  it  is  the 
name  by  which  it  is  expressly  called  by  the  great 

1 Ewald,  iv.  343.  least  support  from  the  New  Tesla- 

8 It  may  be  observed  that  the  al-  ment.  It  is  never  quoted  there  (see 
legorical  interpretation  has  not  the  Ginsburg,  q/* Introd.  § 5). 


266 


THE  WISDOM  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVIII 


Episcopal  scholars  of  the  Greek,  French,  and  English 
Churches,  — Gregory  Nazianzen,  Bossuet,  and  Lowth, — 
and  of  this  drama  the  stage  and  scenery  are  formed  by 
the  gardens,  the  luxury,  the  splendor  of  Solomon.^ 
Nowhere  else  is  the  fragrance  of  spring,  the  beauty  of 
flowers,  the  variety  of  animal  life,  brought  out  in  a 
manner  more  worthy  of  the  great  King  who  entered 
so  keenly  into  all  these  things.  The  winter  is  past, 
the  rain  is  over  and  gone  ; the  flowers  appear  on  the 
earth  ; the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come,  and 
the  voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land ; the  fig- 
^Hree  putteth  forth  her  green  figs,  and  the  vines  with 
^Hhe  tender  grape  give  a good  smell.  Arise,  my  love, 
my  fair  one,  and  come  away.”^  We  feel  as  we  read 
that  this  is  our  own  feeling.  It  is  more  than  Oriental,  — 
it  is  the  simple,  genuine  sentiment  of  delight  in  nature. 
Whatever  else  we  may  learn  from  the  Song  of  Solomon, 
we  may  at  least  learn  the  same  fresh  and  homely  lesson 
that  has  been  impressed  upon  the  Christian  world  by 
the  new  turn  given  to  poetic  feeling  through  our  own 
Wordsworth.  We  may  find  it  difliciilt,  except  in  far- 
fetched allegorical  explanations,  to  discover  any  directly 
reli<2:ious  lessons  in  the  Song  of  Solomon.  The  name  of 
God  never  occurs  in  it.  But  this  ought  to  be  no  stum- 
bling-block. Nay,  it  may  be  one  of  the  chief  providential 
reasons  for  its  admission  into  the  sacred  canon,  to  show 
us  that  a book,  in  order  to  lie  truly  sacred,  truly  divine, 
need  not  of  necessity  liave  the  outward  expressions  of 
religion  or  of  theology,  — to  show  us  tliat  there  is  some- 
thing of  itself  religious  and  inspiring  in  the  fervent 
description  of  pure  natural  afleclion,  and  of  the  beauti- 
ful sights  and  sounds  of  the  natural  world. 

4.  The  chief  manifestation,  in  wilting,  of  Solomon’s 


1 Sec  Lect.ire  XXVII. 


2 Cant.  ii.  11-13. 


r.KCT.  xxvni. 


THE  PROVERBS. 


267 


wisdom  was  that  of  Proverbs,”  " Parables,”  or  by  what- 
ever other  name  we  translate  the  Hebrew  xheProv- 
word  Mashal.  The  inward  spirit  of  his  philos- 
ophy  (for  such  it  might  be  called,  and  was  the  nearest 
approach  to  the  Western  idea  which  the  Hebrew  mind 
ever  attained)  consisted  in  questionings  about  the  ends 
of  life,  propounding  and  answering  the  difficulties  sug- 
gested by  human  experience.  Its  form  was  either  that 
of  similitudes,  or  short  homely  maxims. 

« Proverbs,”  in  the  modern  sense  of  that  word,^  imply 
a popular  and  national  reception  - — they  imply,  accord- 
ing to  the  celebrated  definition  by  one  of  our  most 
eminent  statesmen,  not  only  one  man’s  wit,”  but 

many  men’s  wisdom.”  This  is,  however,  not  the  case 
with  Solomon’s  Proverbs.  They  are  individual,  not 
national.  It  is  because  they  represent  not  many  men’s 
wisdom,  but  one  man’s  supereminent  wit,  that  they  pro- 
duced so  deep  an  impression.  They  were  gifts  to  the 
people,  not  the  produce  of  the  people.  The  words  of 
“ the  wise  are  as  goads,”  as  barbed  points  to  urge  for- 
ward to  inquiry,  to  knowledge.  This  is  one  aspect. 
They  are  also  as  nails  or  stakes  driven  ” hard  and 
home  into  the  ground  of  the  heart,  ^^by  the  masters  of 
^Hhe  assembly,  by  the  shepherds  of  the  people.”^  Their 
pointed  form  is  given  to  them  to  make  them  probe  and 
stimulate  the  heart  and  memory ; they  are  driven  in 
with  all  the  weight  of  authority,  to  give  fixedness  and 
firmness  to  the  whole  system. 

Although  Proverbs”  are  twice ^ mentioned  in  the 
time  of  David,  and  poems,  under  the  name  of  Prov- 
erbs,” are  mentioned  as  far  back  as  the  conquest  ^ of 

1 Archbishop  Trench,  On  Proverbs.  3 1 Sam.  x.  12;  xxiv.  13. 

3 Eccles.  xii.  11,  with  the  com-  '*  Numb.  xxi.  27. 
uents  of  Ginsburg. 


268 


THE  WISDOM  OF  SOLOMON. 


lect.  xxvin 


Palestine,  yet,  as  in  the  case  of  the  word  Wisdom,” 
the  connection  of  “ Proverbs  ” with  Solomon  can  be 
traced  by  the  immense  multiplication  of  the  word  after 
his  time.  Two  special  causes  may  be  noticed  as  having 
turned  his  mind  and  that  of  his  people  in  this  direction. 
One  is  the  prevalence  of  this  mode  of  composition 
amongst  the  Arabian  tribes  with  whom  he  and  they 
now  came  into  contact.  The  elaborate  prophecies  of. 
the  Mesopotamian  Balaam  are  called  by  this  title.^  The 
other  is  the  adoption  of  this  style  by  Solomon’s  friend 
and  preceptor  Nathan.  The  apologue  of  the  ewe  lamb, 
though  not  called  a parable  ” or  proverb,”  is  the  first 
instance  of  its  application  to  moral  and  religious  matters, 
and  even  in  its  form  exactly  resembles  one  in  the  Book 
of  Ecclesiastes.^ 

The  extent  of  this  literr^ture  was  far  beyond  what  has 
come  down  to  us.  ^^He  spake  three  thousand  prov^ 

erbs.”  ^ But  of  these,  a considerable  number  are  actu- 
ally preserved  in  the  Book  of  Proverbs.^  The  whole 
book  emanates  from  his  spirit.  They  abound  in  allu- 
sions,— now  found  for  the  first  time,  and  precisely  appli- 
cable to  the  age  of  Solomon  — to  gold  and  silver  and 
precious  stones  ; ^ to  the  duties  and  power  of  kings  ; ^ to 
commerce.^  In  them  appears  the  first  idea  of  fixed 
education  and  discipline,®  the  first  description  of  the 

1 Numb,  xxili.  7,  18,  &c.  (Hob.).  ^ Prov.  i.  9 ; iii.  14,  15  ; viii.  10,  11; 

2 Eccles.  ix.  1.3-15.  x.  20  ; xvi.  IG  ; xvii.  3 ; xx.  15  ; xxli.  1 ; 

3 1 Kin^s  iv.  32.  xxv.  4,  12;  xxvil.  21  ; xxxi.  10. 

They  are  divided  Into  three  6 Ibid.  xlv.  28;  xvi.  10-15;  xix. 

(-•lasses.  (1.)  The  Proverbs  of  Solo-  12;  xx.  2G  ; xxi.  1 ; xxv.  2,  3,  5,  6, 

mot),  i.  — xxiv.  (2.)  The  Proverbs  7 ; xxx.  31  ; xxxi.  4. 
of  .Solomon,  eo[)ied  out  by  order  of  7 Ibid.  vli.  IG,  17  ; xxxi.  14,  21-24. 

Hezekiah,  xxv.  — xxlx.  (3.)  The  Ibid,  i.3,4;  Hi.  1;  iv.  4 ; vii.  1- 

Projdiecles  of  Aj^ur  and  Lemuel,  3;  x.  13  ; xxvl.  3. 
ixx.  xxxi. 


L«ct.  XXVIII. 


THE  TROVERBS. 


269 


diversities  of  human  character.^  In  them  the  instincts 
of  the  animal  creation  are  first  made  to  give  lessons  to 
men.^  Here  also,  as  already  remarked,  we  see  the 
specimens  of  those  riddles  which  delighted  that  age. 

The  Book  of  Proverbs  is  not  on  a level  with  the  Proph- 
ets or  the  Psalms.  It  approaches  human  things  and 
things  divine  from  quite  another  side.  It  has  even  some- 
thing of  a worldly,  prudential  look,  unlike  the  rest  of  the 
Bible.  But  this  is  the  very  reason  why  its  recognition 
as  a Sacred  Book  is  so  useful.  It  is  the  philosophy  of 
practical  life.  It  is  the  sign  to  us  that  the  Bible  does 
not  despise  common  sense  and  discretion.  It  impresses 
upon  us,  in  the  most  forcible  manner,  the  value  of  intel- 
ligence and  prudence,  and  of  a good  education.  The 
whole  strength  of  the  Hebrew  language,  and  of  the 
sacred  authority  of  the  book,  is  thrown  upon  these 
homely  truths.  It  deals  too  in  that  refined,  discriminat- 
ing, careful  view  of  the  finer  shades  of  human  character, 
so  often  overlooked  by  theologians,  but  so  necessary  to 
any  true  estimate  of  human  life.  The  heart  knoweth 
‘Hts  own  bitterness,  and  the  stranger  does  not  inter- 

meddle  with  its  joy.”  How  much  is  there,  in  that 
single  sentence,  of  consolation,  of  love,  of  forethought ! 
And,  above  all,  it  insists  over  and  over  again,  upon  the 
doctrine,  that  goodness  is  wisdom^'  and  that  wickedness 
and  vice  are  ^^folVjr  There  may  be  many  other  views 
of  virtue  and  vice,  of  holiness  and  sin,  higher  and  better 
than  this.  But  there  will  be  always  some  in  the  world 
who  will  need  to  remember  that  a good  man  is  not  only 
religious  and  just,  but  wise  ; and  that  a bad  man  is  not 
only  wicked  and  sinfid,  but  a miserable,  contemptible 
fool. 

1 Prov.  vi.  12,  13  ; x.  20  ; xi.  15,  2 Prov.  vi.  6 ; xxx.  24-28. 

26;  xii.  27;  xiii.  11  ; xiv.  3;  xv. 

18  ; xvi.  18  ; xviii.  4 ; xxv.  20. 


270 


THE  WISDOM  OF  SOLOMON 


lect.  xxvm 


From  the  Jewish  philosophy  of  Solomon  as  embodied 
in  the  Proverbs^  flowed  a stream  of  writings  and  ideas 
which  ceased  only  with  the  destruction  of  the  nation. 
The  Book  of  tliese,  perhaps,  the  most  remarkable  is  the 
Book  of  Job.  Whether  it  were  written  years 
or  centuries  afterwards,  whether  we  regard  its  author  as 
an  Idumoean  or  an  Israelite,  its  derivation  from  the  age 
of  Solomon  is  equally  evident.  Nothing  but  the  wide 
contact  of  that  age  with  the  Gentile  world  could,  humanly 
speaking,  have  admitted  either  a subject  or  a scene  so 
remote  from  Jewish  thought  and  customs,  as  that  of 
Job.  And,  again,  the  special  locality  of  the  story,  Edom, 
agrees  with  the  peculiar  atmosphere  of  the  “ wisdom 
of  Solomon.  Job,  the  Edomite  chief,  was  the  greatest 
of  the  children  of  the  East,”  ^ with  whose  wisdom  that 
of  Solomon  is  expressly  compared.^  The  Edomite  The- 
man,  whence  came  Eliphaz,  was  celebrated  for  its  wis- 
dom.” ^ The  whole  book  is  one  grand  proverb  ” or 
parable.”  It  is  a proof  that  the  mode  of  instructing 
by  fiction  — the  gift  of  reproducing  a past  age  in  order 
to  give  lessons  to  the  present  — is  not,  as  we  sometimes 
think,  a peculiarly  modern  idea.  The  definition  of 
^AVisdom”  is  given,  with  a particularity  worthy  of  the 
Proverbs.^  The  likeness  to  the  Proverbs  of  Agur  is 
almost  verbal.  The  allusions  to  the  horse,  the  peacock, 
the  crocodile,  and  the  hippopotamus,  are  such  as  in 
Palestine  could  hardly  have  been  made  till  after  the 
formation  of  Solomon’s  collections.  Idle  knowledge  of 
Egypt  and  Arabia  is  wdiat  could  only  have  been  acquired 
alter  the  difhision  of  Solomon’s  commerce.  The  ques- 

1 Job  i.  3.  TIk!  wliolo  of  this  argument  is  power* 

1 Kinjrs  iv.  30.  fully  statccl  in  R(5nan,  Liore  de  .Toby 

3 Job.  XV.  1,  10,  18,  19  ; Jer.  xlix.  Pref.  p.  xxvii. 
r ; ObaJiah  8,  9 ; Paruch  iii.  22.  ^ Job  xxviii.  20-28. 


L*ct.  xxvm.  IN  LATER  SACRED  1.ITERATURE. 


271 


tions  discussed  are  the  same  as  those  which  agitate  the 
mind  of  Solomon,  but  descending  deeper  and  deeper 
into  the  difficulties  of  the  world.  The  whole  book  is  a 
discussion  of  that  great  problem  of  human  life  whicf 
appears  in  Ecclesiastes  and  in  the  Book  of  Psalms, — • 
What  is  the  intention  of  Divine  Providence  in  allowing 
the  good  to  suffer?  The  greatness  and  the  calamities  of 
Job  are  given  in  the  most  lively  forms.  The  three  aged 
friends  are  the  liars  for  God,”  the  dogged  defenders  of 
the  traditional  popular  belief  Elihu  is  the  new  wisdom 
of  the  rising  world,  that,  like  the  Grecian  Chorus,  with 
the  sanction  of  the  Almighty,  sets  at  naught  the  subtile 
prejudices  of  the  older  generation.  The  scanty  faith 
of  the  Patriarch  comes  out  from  the  trial  triumphant. 
It  is  the  Prometheus,  the  Faust,  as  it  has  been  well 
called,  of  the  most  complete  age  of  Jewish  civilization. 

The  Book  of  Ecclesiastes,  which,  in  its  style  of  min- 
gled precept  and  apologue,  still  retains  so  much  of  the 
framework  of  the  Proverbs  that  Symmachus,  in  his 
Greek  translation,  calls  it  the  Speaker  of  Proverbs,” 
must  be  reserved  for  the  close  of  Solomon’s  reign.  But 
the  line  of  sacred  literature  did  not  end  with  Eccle- 
siastes. The  Septuagint  and  Vulgate  add  two  more  to 
complete  what  are  called  the  five  ^^Libri  Sapientiales.” 
Of  these  the  first  is  the  one  book,  expressly  called  by 
the  name  which  properly  belongs  to  them  all,  ^^The 
Wisdom  of  Solomon.”  The  traditions  of  exact  author- 
ship, which  had  begun  to  fluctuate  in  Ecclesiastes, 
waver  still  more  in  the  Book  of  Wisdom.  Clem- 
ent  of  Alexandria,  Cyril,  Origen,  Tertullian,  Wisdom 
Cyprian,  Lactantius,  and  Epiphanius  believed  that  it  was 
written  by  the  great  King  whose  name  it  bears.  All 
critics  now  are  of  opinion  that  it  was  the  work  of  an 
Alexandrian  Jew.  But  it  is  one  link  more  in  the  chain 


272 


THE  WISDOM  OF  SOLOMON 


Lect.  JTXVm. 


by  which  the  influence  of  Solomon  commnnicatefl  itself 
to  succeeding  ages.  As  the  undoubted  Wisdom/’  or 
Proverbs  of  Solomon,  formed  the  first  expression  of  the 
contact  of  Jewish  religion  with  the  philosophy  of  Egypt 
and  Arabia.,  so  the  apocryphal  Wisdom  of  Solomon  ” is 
the  first  expression  of  the  contact  of  Jewish  religion 
with  the  Gentile  philosophy  of  Greece.  Still  the  apo- 
logue and  the  warning  to  kings  keeps  up  the  old  strain; 
still  the  old  “ Wisdom  ” makes  her  voice  to  be  heard  ; 
and  out  of  the  worldly  prudence  of  Solomon  springs, 
for  the  first  time,  in  distinct  terms,  the  hope  full  of 
immortality.”  ^ 

One  further  step  remains.  ^^The  wisdom  of  Joshua, 
Book  of  the  son  of  Siracli,”  through  its  Latin  title 

Ecclesias-  . . . ^ . 

ticus.  known  as  Ecclesias ticus,”  is  a still  more  direct 
imitation  of  the  works  of  Solomon,  — according  to  St 
Jerome,  not  merely  of  the  Proverbs,  but  of  the  Proverbs, 
Ecclesiastes,  and  Canticles  all  in  one.  We  might  now 
seem  to  have  reached  the  verge  to  which  the  Wisdom 
of  Solomon  ” extended.  But  it  is  just  at  this  moment 
that  it  strikes  out  in  two  new  lines,  eacli  of  the  utmost 
importance  in  the  history  of  tlie  cliosen  people  — each, 
by  a continuous  process,  carried  back  to  Solomon  him- 
self 

The  first  of  these  came  directly  from  that  contact 
with  the  Greek  philosophy,  of  which  the  two  apocryphal 
books  are  the  earliest  outward  expression. 

The  exaltation  and  the  personification  of  ‘AVisdom  ” 
The  Doc-  lent  itself  to  those  abstract  speculations  which 

tritie  of  T rv'  *1  • j 1 

Wisdom.  drew  out  the  di  lie  rent  ide;is  wrapt  up  in  the 

Divine  Essence.  “Sojihia,”  or  Wisdom,”  became  the 
feminine,  as  Logos,”  or  Reason,”  was  the  masculine, 
representation  of  the  doctrine  of  the  t)ivine  Intelligence 

> Wisdom  i.  1 ; v\.  1,9;  iii.  1-1;  1-9,  &c. 


Lsct.  XX\aiL  IN  LATER  SACRED  LITERATURE. 


27a 


communicating  itself  to  the  mind  of  man.  Accordingly, 
when,  on  Christ’s  appearance,  the  stores  of  the  Greek 
language  w^ere  ransacked  to  furnish  expressions  adequate 
to  the  occasion,  the  word  Wisdom,”  copla,  was  called 
forth  to  do  service  for  the  last  time,  in  the  Jewish  his- 
tory, on  the  grandest  scale.  Twice,  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment itself,  the  term  is  actually  applied.^  The  next 
generation  of  Christian  theologians  found,  in  the  pa- 
thetic expostulations  of  Wisdom,  and  the  descriptions 
of  her  eternal  greatness,  the  fittest  exponents  of  the 
words  and  nature  of  Christ ; and  in  the  Eastern  Church, 
the  name  has  been  perpetuated  forever  in  the  cathedral 
of  its  greatest  see.  Santa  Sophia  ” is  the  Christianiza- 
tion and  divinization  of  the  word  which  was  bequeathed 
to  the  Church  by  Solomon. 

The  other  is  a still  more  direct  connection.  Not  only 
was  Christ  the  subject  in  wdiich  the  name  of  Theteach- 

^ Ear- 

The  Wisdom  of  Solomon  found  its  last  and  auies. 
highest  application,  but  His  teaching  was  the  last  and 
highest  example  of  the  thing  itself  If  we  look  back 
to  the  older  Scriptures  for  the  models  on  which,  in  form 
at  least,  our  Lord’s  discourses  are  framed,  it  is,  for  the 
most  part,  not  the  Psalms,  nor  the  Prophecies,  nor  the 
Histories,  but  the  works  of  Solomon.  Not  only  do  the 
short  moral  and  religious  aphorisms  resemble  in  general 
form  the  precepts  of  the  Proverbs  and  of  Ecclesiasticus, 
but  the  very  name  by  which  the  greater  part  of  His 
teaching  is  called  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  teaching 
of  Solomon.  He  spoke  in  parables”  or  ^‘proverbs.” 
The  two  Greek  w^ords^  are  used  promiscuously  in  the 
Evangelical  narratives,  and  are  in  fact  representatives 
of  one  and  the  same  Hebrew  word.  It  is,  we  might 
say,  an  accident  that  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon  are  not 

1 Luke  vii.  35  ; xi.  49.  2 JlapalSoX^  and  Trapotpia. 

VOL.  II. 


18 


274 


THE  DECLINE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect  XXVIII 


called  the  ••  Parables/’  and  that  the  teachings  of  the 
New  Testament  are  called  the  Parables/’  and  not 
the  Proverbs/’  of  the  Gospels.  The  illustrations  from 
natural  objects,  the  selection  of  the  homelier  instead 
of  the  grander  of  these,  are  not  derived  from  the  Proph- 
ets, or  from  the  Psalmists,  but  from  the  wise  Naturalist, 
^^who  spake  of  trees,  and  beasts,  and  fowls,  and  creep- 
^Gng  things,  and  fishes,”  ^^of  the  singing-birds,  of  the 
budding  fig-tree,  of  the  fragrant  vine.”^  The  teach- 
ing of  Solomon  is  the  sanctification  of  common  sense 
in  the  Old  Testament,  and  to  that  sanctification  the 
final  seal  is  set  by  the  adoption  of  the  same  style  and 
thought  in  the  New  Testament  by  Him  who,  with  His 
Apostles,^  taught  in  Solomon’s  porch,”  and  expressly 
compared  Plis  wisdom  to  the  wisdom  which  gathered 
the  nations  round  Solomon  of  old.^ 

From  this,  the  hio:hest  honor  ever  rendered  to 
The  decline  Soloiuoii,  we  iiiust  pass,  before  completing  the 
of  Solomon.  pjg  wisdoui,  to  tlic  sad  story  of  his 

decline.  The  Arabian  traditions  relate  that  in  the  staff 
on  which  he  leaned,  and  whicli  supported  him  long 
after  his  death,  there  was  a worm,  which  was  secretly 
gnawing  it  asunder.  The  legend  is  an  apt  emblem 
of  the  dark  end  of  Solomon’s  reign.  As  the  record  of 
his  grandeur  contains  a recognition  of  the  interest  and 
value  of  secular  magnificence  and  wisdom,  so  the  rec- 
ord of  his  decline  and  fall  contains  the  most  striking 
witness  to  the  instability  of  all  power  that  is  divorced 
fi-om  moral  and  religious  pi’inciple.  As  Bacon  is,  in 
English  history, 

“ The  wLsest,  ^eatest,  meanest  of  maiikiiul/’ 

• 1 Kin^rs  Iv.  .T.'{  ; C.iiit.  i.  1 2,  1 .3  ; 2 Jolm  x.  2.‘i  ; Acts  iii.  11  ; v.  1 2 

ri  11  ; vll.  12,  l.'l,  >kr.  (’f)inp.  Sinai  ^ .MmH.  xii.  12  ; Luke  xi.  31. 

and  I'dlrsflne,  XIII. 


Lkct.  XXVIII. 


ITS  CAUSES. 


275 


80  is  Solomon  in  Jewish  and  in  sacred  history.  Every 
part  of  his  splendor  had  its  dark  side,  and  those  dark 
shades  have  now  to  be  brought  out. 

There  is  a bold  expression  of  Schiller,  that  the  Fall 
was  a giant  stride  in  the  history  of  the  human  race. 
A reverse  of  this  saying  may  be  applied  to  the  giant 
stride  which  Jewish  civilization  made  in  the  reign  of 
Solomon.  It  brought  with  it  the  fall  of  the  Jewish 
nation.  The  commercial  intercourse  with  foreign  na- 
tions, the  assimilation  of  the  Israelite  monarchy  to  the 
corresponding  institutions  of  the  surrounding  kingdoms, 
though  it  was,  as  we  have  seen,  indispensable  to  certain 
elements  of  the  church  and  state  of  Judea,  yet  was 
fraught  with  danger  to  a people  whose  chief  safeguard 
had  hitherto  been  their  exclusiveness,  and  whose  highest 
mission  was  to  keep  their  faith  and  manners  distinct 
from  the  contagion  of  the  world  around  them.  It  is 
not  for  us  to  say  that  this  danger  was  inevitable.  The 
mere  fact  of  the  wide  extension  of  the  Christian  Church 
and  Religion — Jewish,  Semitic,  Palestinian,  in  their 
origin  — shows  that,  under  certain  conditions,  the 
breadth  and  length  of  a Religion  is  as  essential  as  its 
depth  and  elevation.  But  the  time  was  not  yet  come. 
The  gigantic  experiment  of  Solomon,  though  partially 
and  prospectively  successful,  yet  in  greater  part  and 
for  the  moment  failed.  Neither  he  nor  his  country 
were  equal  to  the  magnitude  of  the  occasion.  As  he 
is  the  representative  of  the  splendors  of  the  monarchy, 
BO  is  he  also  the  type  and  cause  of  its  ruin. 

Four  main  causes  of  corruption  are  indicated  its  causes, 
in  the  sacred  narrative. 

1.  Of  all  the  institutions  of  an  Oriental  monarchy, 
the  most  characteristic  and  the  most  fatal  is 
polygamy.  It  is  not  on  Solomon,  but  on 


Polygamy. 


276 


THE  DECLINE  OF  SOLOMON. 


Lect.  XXVIII  I 


David,  that  the  heavy  responsibility  rests,  of  having  g 
first  introduced  polygamy  on  an  extended  scale  into  : 
the  court  of  Israel.  But  Solomon  carried  it  out  to  a c 
degree  unparalleled  before  or  since,  and  his  wider  inter-  ' 
course  with  foreign  nations  gave  him  a wider  field  for  ; 
selection.  The  chief  Queen,  no  doubt,  was  the  Egyptian  ' 
Princess.  But  she  was  surrounded  by  a vast  array  of 
inferior  wives  and  concubines,  all  of  them,  as  far  as 
appears,  of  foreign  extraction ; from  Moab,  Ammon, 
Edom,  Phoenicia,  and  the  old  Canaanitish  races.^  Such 
a system  must  have  completely  destroyed  the  character  ’ 
of  the  royal  family,  and  brought  with  it  the  inevitable 
evils  of  the  Oriental  seraglio. 

It  may  be  that  the  direct  demoralization  of  the  nation  ; 
was  not  equal  in  proportion  to  that  of  the  court.  The  ' 
seraglio  is  considered  a royal  privilege,  and  the  mass  - 
of  an  Eastern  population  is  always  monogamist.  But 
the  general  loosening  of  the  moral  and  intellectual 
character  hy  licentiousness  is  described  by  Solomon  in 
the  Book  of  Proverbs  in  terms  which  assume  a mournful 
interest  when  viewed  in  their  exemplification  in  the 
life  of  their  author.  The  dangers  that  haunted  the 
streets  of  Jerusalem,  the  disastrous  consecpiences  of 
revelry  and  debauchery,  seem  to  be  the  description 
of  a modern  Western  capital,  rather  than  of  an  Oriental 
city.  But,  if  the  most  recent  expositions  of  the  Can- 
ticles be  correct,  that  book  contains  a picture  both  of 
the  peiil  which  the  Jewish  morality  must  have  en- 

1 Tlu!  Muml)c,r  of  tlio  whole  liarem  Cant.  vi.  8,  — GO  wives  and  80  eon- 
is  slated  in  1 Kin<^s  xi.  3,  at,  the  al-  enhines.  Some  of  them  may  have 
most  incredihle  amount  of  700  wives  been  for  slate.  Darius  Codomannus 
and  .300  eoneuhin(*s.  'I'his  nmnl)er  took  .3G0  concuhines  to  battle  (Curt, 
has  be(*n  attempted  to  be  redueiid  iii.  .3,  21).  Uehf»boam  had  otdy  18 
from  700  to  70,  and  from  .300  to  80  ; (pieens  and  GO  (.Josej)hus,  .30)  eoneu- 
whi<  h would  be  eonfirimul  by  the  bines,  2 ('hr.  xi.  21.  See  Rosenmiil- 
*ctual  and  relative  numbers  given  in  ler,  /l.nnf/  iV.  Moryenl.  iii.  181. 


C.ECT.  XXVIII. 


ITS  CAUSES. 


277 


countered,  and  also  of  its  pure  and  successful  resistan(3e. 
The  maid  of  Shunem  is  courted  by  Solomon,  but  courted 
in  vain.  She  remains  faithful  to  her  true  lover,  and  in 
their  passionate  expressions  of  affection,  and  in  tlieir 
mutual  alarms  for  each  other’s  safety,  lies  the  lasting  ^ 
interest  and  instruction  of  the  story. 

2.  The  most  direct  proof  of  the  effect  of  these  for- 
eign influences  over  Solomon  was  in  the  au- 
thorized establishment  of  idolatrous  worship. 

This  was  in  part,  we  may  suppose,  a system  of  toleration, 
necessarily  arising  out  of  the  entanglement  of  Palestine 
with  other  countries.  And  the  narrative  implies  that  it 
was  not  Solomon  himself  who  indulged  in  these  foreign 
rites,  so  much  as  his  wives  and  concubines  under  his 
sanction  or  permission.  Still,  the  mere  fact  of  the  rise 
of  idolatrous  altars,  not. merely,  as  may  have  been  the 
case  before,  in  remote  corners  of  the  Holy  Land,  but  in 
the  very  sight  and  neighborhood  of  the  Holy  City  and 
Holy  Place,  must  have  exercised  a wide  influence  over 
the  whole  country.  The  daughter  of  Pharaoh  ” either 
conformed  to  the  national  religion,  or  at  any  rate  re- 
quired no  Egyptian  sanctuary.  But  on  the  southern 
heights  of  Olivet,  looking  towards  the  royal  gardens, 
were  three  sanctuaries,  on  three  distinct  eminences, 
consecrated  respectively  to  Astarte,  the  goddess  of 
Phoenicia,  to  Chemosh,  the  war-god  of  Moab,  and  to 
Milcom  (or  Molech),  the  divine  ^Hdng”  of  Ammon.- 
The  licentious  and  cruel  rites  with  which  these  divinities 
were  worshipped  gave  a name  of  infamy  to  the  whole 
mountain.  In  part,  or  in  whole,  it  received  from  these 
shrines  the  name  of  the  Mount  of  Offence,”  which  it 
retained,  together  with  the  more  innocent  name  of 

1 See  Renan,  Caniique  des  Can-  2 \ Kings  xi  5,  7 ; 2 Kings  xxiii. 
Hques ; Ginsburg  on  the  Canticles.  13. 


278 


THE  DECLINE  OF  SOLOMON. 


lect.  xxvin 


^ Olivet,”  till  the  Christian  era,  when  the  darker  name 
was  confined  to  the  southernmost  of  the  four  heights 
of  which  that  mountain  is  composed.  The  statues  and 
shrines  remained,  till  they  were  destroyed  by  Josiah. 

3.  Along  with  this  depravation  of  morals  and  re- 
ligion followed,  not  unnaturally,  a depravation 
of  that  just  and  wise  policy  of  government 
which  had  Avon  for  Solomon  the  admiration  and  love 
of  his  subjects.  Little  is  said,  but  much  is  implied,  of 
the  oppressive  burdens  Avhich,  in  Solomon’s  later  years, 
extended  from  his  Canaanite  subjects  to  the  free  Is- 
raelite population.  His  enormous  expenses  had  obliged 
him,  toAvards  the  end  of  his  reign,  even  to  part  Avith 
a portion  of  territory,  in  discharge  of  his  obligations 
to  the  King  of  Tyre.  Apparently,  it  was  at  this  time 
that  the  tAvelve  officers  ” ^ Avere  appointed,  as  over  for- 
eign countries,  to  collect  taxes  from  the  various  districts, 
like  the  Landvogts  of  Austria  or  the  Harmosts  of  Lacc- 
dmmonia,  in  their  foreign  dependencies.  The  aged 
Adonirain  had  become  so  unpopular  that  his  life  Avas 
only  preserA^ed  by  the  great  j)restige  of  Solomon’s  name. 
The  aged  counsellors  avIio  stood  round  him  Avere  dis- 
mayed, the  rising  generation  of  subjects  avIio  gi'ew  up 
round  him  Avere  exasperated,  and  the  insolent  young 
courtiers  Avho  gathered  round  his  son  Avcre  encouraged 
by  seeing  the  heavy  yoke,”  ^Hhe  grievous  service,” 
^Hhe  chastisement  of  whips,”  Avith  Avhich  Solomon  tried 
to  press  down  the  sj)irit  and  independence  of  his  people.^ 
The  government  of  the  Avise  King  Avas  rapidly  becoming 
as  odious  to  the  Israelites  as  that  of  the  race  of  Tarquin,® 
in  s[)ite  of  all  their  sjilendid  Avorks,  to  the  patricians  of 
Koine.  Muttei-ings  of  the  coming  storm  Avere  already 


1 Since,  two  of  them  were  tlic 
King’s  sons-in-law 


I Kings  xii.  4,  7,  11,  14. 

3 See  Arnold’s  Home,  1.  89. 


Lj?ct.  XXVIII. 


ITS  EFFECTS. 


279 


heard,  both  abroad  and  at  home.  The  chiefs  of  Edom, 
and  of  Syria,  again  raised  their  heads  in  revolt,^  and 
now  for  the  first  time  appeared,  although  his  overt  acts 
are  implied  rather  than  stated,  the  founder  of  the  future 
rival  dynasty,  Jeroboam. 

4.  This  last  event  introduces  us  to  the  darkest  of  the 
clouds  which  rested  on  the  declining  fortunes  Absence  of 
of  Solomon.  From  whatever  cause,  the  one 
institution  of  the  Jewish  commonwealth  which  received 
no  visible  growth  or  encouragement  during  Solomon’s 
reign,  was  the  Prophetical  order.  Of  Nathan,  his 
Prophet-teacher,  we  hear  nothing  after  his  inauguration, 
except  that  the  Prophet’s  two  sons,  Azariah  and  Zabud, 
held,  as  we  have  seen,  distinguished  offices  in  the  court, 
and  that  Solomon’s  reign  was  partially  recorded  by 
Nathan.  The  only  Prophet  who  takes  an  active  part, 
and  that  quite  in  the  close  of  the  reign,  is  Ahijah  of 
Shiloh.^  It  is  not  clear  whether  it  was  through  his 
mouth  in  the  first  instance,  or  through  a dream,  as  in 
the  earlier  periods  of  Solomon’s  life,  that  the  Divine 
intimation  was  conveyed,  announcing  the  disruption  of 
his  kingdom  and  the  fall  of  his  house.  But  in  either 
case,  it  was  a significant  token  of  the  approaching  ca- 
lamity, that  the  Prophet  once  more,  as  in  the  time  of 
Saul,  stood  opposed  to  the  King.  This  is  all  that  is  told 
us  in  the  historical  books  of  Solomon’s  last  acts.  He 
‘^was  buried”  in  the  royal  sepulchre  with  his  father, 
David.3 

In  one  sense,  the  whole  subsequent  history  of  the 
disruption  and  of  the  divided  kingdon  is  a con-  The  end  of 
tinuation  of  the  dark  shadow  which  fell  over 

^ 1 Kings  xi.  14-25.  the  40th,  according  to  Josephus  {^Ant. 

* Ibid.  xi.  29.  viii.  7,  § 8),  in  the  80th,  year  of  hia 

5 According  to  1 Kings  xi.  42,  in  reign. 


280  WISDOM  AND  DECLINE  OF  SOLOMON.  Lect.  XXVIII. 


the  last  years  of  Solomon.  But  we  return  to  the  great 
King  himself,  and  would  fain  ask  what  was  his  own 
final  state  amidst  the  decay  of  the  present,  and  the 
forebodings  of  the  future.  Theologians  used  to  vex 
themselves  with  the  question,  whether  Solomon  was 
amongst  the  saved  or  the  lost.  Irenseus,  Hilary,  Cyril 
of  Jerusalem,  Ambrose,  and  Jerome,  lean  to  the  milder 
view.  The  severer  is  adopted  by  Tertullian,  Cyprian, 
Augustine,  and  Gregory  the  Great.  So  frequently  was 
the  question  discussed,  and  so  equally  balanced  did  it 
seem,  that  in  the  series  of  frescos  on  the  walls  of  the 
Campo  Santo  at  Pisa,  Solomon  is  represented  in  the 
resurrection  at  the  last  day  as  looking  ambiguouslj^  to 
the  right  and  to  the  left,  not  knowing  on  which  side 
his  lot  will  be  cast. 

It  is  far  more  profitable  to  take  Solomon,  as  the 
Bible  represents  him  to  us,  in  his  mingled  good  and 
evil.  He  is  the  chief  example  in  Sacred  History  of 
what  meets  us  often  in  common  history,  — the  union 
of  genius  and  crime.  The  record  of  his  career  sanc- 
tions our  use  of  the  intellectual  power  even  of  the 
weakest  or  the  wickedest  of  mankind.  As  Solomon’s 
fall  is  not  overlooked  in  consideration  of  his  power  and 
glory,  so  neither  because  he  fell  does  he  cease  to  be 
called  the  wisest  of  men,  nor  is  his  wisdom  shut  out 
from  the  Sacred  Volume.  It  is  a striking  instance  of 
the  law  that  good,  once  done,  can  never  l)e  entirely 
undone,  wisdom,  once  spoken,  can  never  be  entirely 
recalled.  The  sensual  and  cruel  worship  which  Solo- 
mon established  on  the  hills  of  Palestine  has  passed 
away  — even  the  dissoluiion  of  his  empire  has  but  little 
intrinsic;  im])()i-lance  for  iis.  But  the  wise  words  which 
he  wrotcj,  in  spite  of  his  later  failings,  still  continue, 
and  have  givcui  birth,  as  wc;  have;  seen,  to  the  like  wis- 


L*ct.  XXYIIL  THE  BOOK  OF  ECCLESIASTES. 


281 


dom,  age  after  age.  Fear  not  to  use  the  learning  and 
the  genius  of  heathens,  of  heretics,  nay,  must  we  not 
even  say  of  infidels,  and  of  profligates?  Fear  not,  for 
the  Scriptures  still  contain,  and  the  Church  still  reads, 
the  Proverbs  of  the  apostate  King,  the  words  of  one 
who  sanctioned,  if  he  did  not  adopt,  some  of  the  worst 
idolatries  that  have  polluted  the  earth. 

But  there  is  a more  precise  and  peculiar  lesson  to  be 
derived  from  the  history  which  tells  how  the  promise 
of  youth  was  overcast  by  the  evil  passions  of  manhood, 
or  the  worldliness  of  age ; how  the  wisdom  of  Solomon 
was  turned  into  folly ; his  justice  into  tyranny ; his 
prosperity  into  misery  and  ruin.  Out  of  that  darkness, 
itself  filled  with  warning,  one  voice  comes  to  us,  with 
doubtful  and  hesitating  accents,  but  still  the  nearest 
approach  or  echo  that  we  can  now  attain  to  the  voice 
of  Solomon  himself 

The  Book  of  Proverbs  is,  in  the  Canon  of  the  Old 
Testament,  followed  by  the  book  called,  in  the  The  Book 
Greek,  Ecclesiastes,  in  the  Hebrew,  Koheleth,  in  LtJs. 
the  English,  the  Preacher.”  The  Preacher  ” repre- 
sented in  it  is  no  doubt  Solomon.  But  the  writer  was, 
in  some  Jewish  traditions,  supposed  to  be  Isaiah,  in 
some  Hezekiah,  and  in  the  Christian  Church,  since  the 
time  of  Grotius,  many  distinguished  scholars  ^ have 
supposed,  from  the  character  of  the  language,  com- 
pared with  that  of  the  Proverbs,  and  from  the  general 
allusions,  that  it  must  be  of  a later  date  still.  We  have 
a splendid  sanction  of  the  same  kind  of  personification 
in  the  Book  of  Wisdom.  But,  however  this  may  be, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  Ecclesiastes  embodies  the 
Bentiments  which  were  believed  to  have  proceeded 

* See  Ginsburg’s  excellent  history  of  the  literature  of  the  subject  in  his 
Couamentary  on  Ecclesiastes. 


282 


f- 

WISDOM  AND  DECLINE  OF  SOLOMON.  Lect.  XXVIU  i 

from  Solomon  at  the  close  of  his  life,  and  therefore 
must  be  taken  as  the  Hebrew,  Scriptural,  representation 
of  his  last  lessons  to  the  world. 

What  those  lessons  were,  have,  by  reason  of  the 
obscurity  of  the  style,  been  matters  of  considerable 
doubt.  Many,  both  Jewish  and  Christian,  of  former 
times,  have  been  so  strongly  impressed  by  the  gloom,  : 
the  despair,  the  supposed  Epicureanism  which  pervades 
the  book,  as  to  wish  to  reject  it  altogether  from  the  t 
canon  of  Scripture.  The  Jewish  doctors  hesitated  >• 
to  receive  it.^  The  most  renowned  ^interpreter”  of  :< 
the  ancient  Eastern  Church  rejected  it  in  the  fifth  cen-  ] 
tury.  Abulfaragius,  in  the  fourteenth  century,  doubt- 1 
less  drew  from  this  book  his  mournful  representation  ‘ 
of  Solomon  as  a disciple  of  the  sect  of  the  sceptical : 
Empedocles.  Even  in  England,  the  doubters  and  ‘ 
scoffers  amongst  our  half-educated  mechanics  often 
take  refuge  under  the  authority  of  Solomon,  and  make  i/ 
the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes  alternately  the  sanction  of  ■*. 
their  own  unbelief,  and  a ground  of  attack  against  the  i 
general  faith  of  the  Bible. 

But  a moi’e  careful  insight  will  supply  us  with  a true 

answer  to  these  dilhculties,  and  make  us  feel  both  the  i 

' ♦ 

value  of  Ecclesiastes  as  a part  of  Scri})ture,  and  jilso  its  * 
close  connection  with  the  character  and  career  of  tlitf  i 

I 

great  King  of  Israel. 

As  tlie  Book  of  Job  is  couched  in  the  form  of  a 
dramatic  argument  l^etween  tlie  Patriarch  and  his  I 
friends,  as  the  Song  of  Songs  is  a dramatic  dialogue  * 
between  the  Lover  and  the  Beloved  One,  so  the  Book  H 
of  Ecclesiastes  is  a,  drama,  of  a still  more  tragic  kind. 
It  is  an  into’cliange  of  voices,  higher  and  lower,  |j 

1 Jcronio,  on  xll.  1 .3  ; Kabbi  />o/.  raj),  x.  45  ; Preston’s  L’ccZe.sia.?/c«, 

b.’huda  It)  S|)inosa,  I'rdct.  Thcolof/ico-  13,  74. 


Lbct.  XXVIll.  THE  BOOK  OF  ECCLESIASTES. 


283 


mournful  and  joyful,  within  a single  human  soul.  It  is 
like  the  struggle  between  the  two  principles  in  the 
Epistle  to  the  Romans.  It  is  like  the  question  and 
answer  of  the  Two  Voices”  of  our  modern  poet.  It 
is  like  the  perpetual  strophe  and  antistrophe  of  Pascal’s 
Pensees,  But  it  is  more  complicated,  more  entangled, 
than  any  of  these,  in  proportion  as  the  circumstances 
from  which  it  grows  are  more  perplexing,  as  the 
character  which  it  represents  is  vaster,  and  grander, 
and  more  distracted.  Every  speculation  and  thought 
of  the  human  heart  is  heard,  and  expressed,  and  recog- 
nized in  turn.  The  conflicts  which  in  other  parts  of 
the  Bible  are  conflned  to  a single  verse  or  a single 
chapter,  are  here  expanded  to  a whole  book. 

Listen,  not  with  scoffing  or  disbelief,  but  with  rev- 
erence and  sympathy,  to  its  darker  strains.  No  history 
in  the  Bible  is  more  disappointing  than  the  close  of  the 
life  of  Solomon.  No  book  in  the  Bible  is  sadder  than 
the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes.  The  nearest  approach  to  it 
in  the  Sacred  writings  is  to  be  found  in  two  of  the 
Psalms,  the  88th  and  89th,  ascribed  by  their  titles  to 
two  of  Solomon’s  greatest  contemporaries  : Heman  and 
Ethan.  Like  Ecclesiastes,  they  bear  marks  of  being 
themselves  of  later  date,  put  into  the  mouths  of  those 
two  famous  oracles  of  ancient  wisdom.  Like  it,  too, 
they  present  the  profound  melancholy  of  human  expe- 
rience, lit  up  here  and  there  with  a gleam  of  brighter 
hope.^  In  Ecclesiastes,  the  first  prevailing  cry  is  that 
of  weariness  and  despair.  ^‘Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is 
‘Vanity.  ...  I looked  on  all  that  my  hands  had 
“ wrought,  and  on  the  labor  that  I had  labored  to  do  : 
and,  behold,  all  was  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit.  . . . 
‘ In  much  wisdom  is  much  grief . . . He  that  increaseth 

1 Comp,  especially  Ps.  Ixxxviii.  5,  6,  12  18,  Ixxxix.  46-50 


284  WISDOM  AND  DECLINE  OF  SOLOMON.  Lect.  XXVIII 

knowledge  increnseth  sorrow.  Therefore  I hated  Hto,  i 
because  the  work  that  is  wrought  under  the  sun  is 
grievous  unto  me : for  all  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  , 
"spirit.”^  Deep  as  is  the  melancholy  which  fills  the 
soul  of  the  Preacher,  as  he  is  thus  described  in  the  con- 
templation of  his  own  life,  it  is  deeper  still  as  he  looks 
round  on  the  wide  world  which  through  him  was  first 
opened  to  the  eyes  of  Israel.  “1  returned,  and  con- 
^^sidered  the  oppressions  that  were  done  under  the  ■ 
sun : and  beheld  the  tears  of  such  as  were  oppressed,  i 
^^and  they  had  no  comforter.  . . . Wherefore  I praised  • 
the  dead  that  were  already  dead  more  than  the  living  i 
which  are  yet  alive.  Yea,  better  than  both  they  is  | 
^‘he  which  hath  not  been.  . . . That  which  befalleth 
the  sons  of  men  befalleth  beasts  — as  the  one  dieth,  i 

so  dieth  the  other ; yea,  they  have  one  breath ; so  > 

that  a man  hath  no  preeminence  above  a beast,  for  | 
all  is  vanity.  . . . All  things  come  alike  to  all : there  y 
“is  one  event  to  the  righteous  and  to  the  wicked  . . . , 
“ to  the  clean  and  to  the  unclean.  ...  As  is  the  good,  | 
“ so  is  the  sinner.  . . . Time  and  chance  happeneth  to  > 
“them  all.”'"*  This  cry  is  indeed  full  of  doubt,  and  > 

despair,  and  perplexity ; it  is  such  as  we  often  hear  j 

from  the  melancholy,  sceptical,  inquiring  spirits  of  our  I 
own  age  ; such  as  we  often  refuse  to  hear,  and  regard  * 
as  unwortliy  even  a good  man’s  thouglit  or  care.  But  | 
the  admission  of  such  a cry  into  the  Book  of  Eccle-  ^ 
siastes  shows  that  it  is  not  beneath  tlie  notice  of  the  i| 
Bible,  not  l)eneatli  the  notice  of  God.  It  is  not  the  ^ 
voice  of  abstract  riglit,  or  truth,  or  religion,  but  it  is 
the  bitter,  the  agonized,  and  in  this  sense  the  most  true 
and  charactei  istic,  utteraiK'.e,  of  one  who  lias  known  all 
things,  enjoyed  all  things,  been  admired  by  all  men,  has 

1 Eccl.  i.  2,  18  ; li.  11,  17.  2 Ecd.  iv.  1-3  ; iii.  19  ; ix.  2,  11. 


UcT.  xxviir. 


THE  BOOK  OF  ECCLESIASTES. 


286 


seen  through  all  the  littleness  and  worthlessness  of  all 
these  things  in  themselves,  and  yet  not  been  able  to 
grasp  that  which  alone  could  give  them  an  enduring 
value,  or  compensate  for  their  absence.  ‘^Vanity  of 
vanities,  all  is  vanity.”  Doubt  can  find  a place  even 
in  the  sacred  books;  despair  even  in  the  heart  of 
inspired  wisdom. 

But  along  with  this  unbelieving  cynical  distress,  are 
other  voices  gradually  getting  the  better.  First  there 
is  the  profound  experience  of  human  Life,  expressing 
itself  in  strains  of  wisdom  so  refined,  so  serious,  as  to 
belong  rather  to  a modern  age,  than  to  that  when  the 
book  was  composed.  To  everything  there  is  a sea- 
‘ son,  and  a time  to  every  purpose  under  the  heaven : a 
^ time  to  be  born,  and  a time  to  die ; a time  to  plant, 
^ and  a time  to  pluck  up  that  which  is  planted ; a time 
^ to  kill,  and  a time  to  heal ; a time  to  break  down,  and 
a time  to  build  up  ; a time  to  weep,  and  a time  to 
^ laugh ; a time  to  get,  and  a time  to  lose  ; a time  to 
keep,  and  a time  to  cast  away ; a time  to  rend,  and  a 
time  to  sew ; a time  to  keep  silence,  and  a time  to 
speak ; a time  to  love,  and  a time  to  hate  ; a time  of 
war,  and  a time  of  peace.”  ^ How  many  of  the  worst 
controversies  and  scandals  which  have  beset  the  history 
of  the  Church  would  have  been  spared,  if  this  doctrine 
of  the  wise  man  had  been  remembered,  that  there  is  a 
proportion  in  all  things  ; that  what  is  right  at  one  time 
is  wrong  at  another ; that  what  is  wisdom  in  one  age  is 
folly  in  another ! 

But  there  are  strains  of  a still  higher  mood.  Amidst 
the  darkest  gloom,  there  come,  from  time  to  time,  coun- 
sels from  an  entirely  opposite  quarter.  Cheerfulness, 
resignation,  the  call  to  do  our  duty,  however  dreary  and 

1 Eccl.  Hi.  1-8. 


286  WISDOM  AND  DECLINE  OF  SOLOMON.  Lect.  XXVIII 

uncertain  the  future — the  more  cheerfully  and  actively, 
as  the  future  is  more  dreary  and  more  uncertain  : Go 

“ thy  way,  eat  thy  bread  with  joy,  and  drink  thy  wine 
with  a merry  heart,  for  God  nozu  accepteth  thy  works.  ' 
“ . . . Live  joyfully  with  the  wife  that  thou  lovest  all 
‘^the  days  of  the  life  of  thy  vanity;  for  that  is  thy 
portion  in  this  life,  and  in  thy  labors  which  thou 
“ takest  under  the  sun.  Whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth 
" to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might ; for  there  is  no  work,  nor 
‘^device,  nor  knowledge,  nor  wisdom,  in  the  grave, 

" whither  thou  goest.”  ^ And  the  tone  of  the  book,  as 
it  draws  to  the  end,  becomes  at  once  more  harmonious 
with  itself  and  more  serious.  Kejoice,  0 young  man, 
‘Gn  thy  youth”  . . . (this  still  is  to  continue),  but 
know  thou  that  for  all  these  things  God  will  bring  thee 
“ unto  judgment.  Remove  sorrow  from  thy  heart,  and 
“ put  away  evil  from  thy  flesh  . . . yet  remember  thy 
Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth,  while  the  evil  days 
“ come  not,  nor  the  years  draw  nigh,  when  thou  shalt 
“ say,  I have  no  pleasure  in  them.”  ^ There  is  a deep 
solemnity,  but  there  is  no  murmur,  in  the  description 
which  follows  of  the  end  which  awaits  us  all.  “ Then 
"shall  the  dust  return  to  the  earth  as  it  was:  and  the 
"spirit  shall  return  to  God  who  gave  it.”^ 

But  even  this  is  not  the  end.  Tliere  is  a yet  simpler 
and  nobler  summary  of  the  wide  and  varied  experience 
of  the  manifold  forma  of  human  life,  as  represented  in 
the  greatness  and  the  fall  of  Solomon.  It  is  not  "vanity 
"of  vanities,”  it  is  not  " rejoice  and  be  merry,”  it  is  not 
even  "Avisdoni  and  knowledge,  and  many  proverbs,  and 
" the  words  of  the  wise,  even  words  of  truth.”  " 01‘ 

" making  many  books  there  is  no  end,  and  much  study 
is  a weariness  ol‘  the  flesh.  Let  us  hear  the  conclusion 

‘ Eccl.  ix.  7-10.  2 Ibid.  xi.  0,  10;  xii.  1.  ^ Ibid.  xii.  7* 


Lect.  XXVIII. 


THE  BOOK  OF  ECCLESIASTES. 


287 


^ of  the  whole  matter.”  For  all  students  of  ecclesiastical 
history,  for  all  students  of  theologjj  for  all  who  are 
about  to  be  religious  teachers  of  others,  for  all  who  are 
entangled  in  the  controversies  of  the  present,  there  are 
no  better  words  to  be  remembered  than  these,  viewed 
in  their  original  and  immediate  application.  They  are 
the  true  answer  to  all  perplexities  respecting  Eccle- 
siastes and  Solomon ; they  are  no  less  the  true  answer  to 
all  perplexities  about  human  life  itself.  Fear  God,  and 
keep  His  commandments ; for  this  is  the  whole  duty 
of  man.  For  God  shall  bring  every  work  into  judg- 
ment,  with  every  secret  thing,  whether  it  be  good,  or 
“ whether  it  be  evil.”  ^ 

I £ccl.  xii.  12,  13,  14. 


'-  , [-}>^  '-'f~  V =.  ' •'  ■ ■ , ' 

■ * •■'i^’f ; ' o I tfj  I '4^\  ,.-  ^ * V ' ^ ^ . 


■^'hf 


''  ■ ^tX'l ':•>-'  I 'iiit  i 


; • ’. ' i\  ;'-"ti’-1  '■'iTvyiS-iil I i ^lv\''^«4i-‘i-"  "••'‘=^-f  ^>■<■•■1'* 


. ■i^-" 

S’:-  ■>  -;!%:;J<vil,  f ^a‘^  ^ 


■•i-> 


ftiC  i . :'f  f .ft/i- 


,,  1':^^  <tiliiM»/r!-.'!a  't/'s  ■•  'l*;*|.,  :,?i-'.,  ■■,  -'Kj^ 


/*'  ■ r 

■ ■ ?;/■ 


.-■‘Uf^'S,^ 


ii-s  » 


■'■  ^;r 


■■ 

• -.7.'  ' V^-r. ,'  ■ 

• -.M/--  ■’  :^  . 

j::-^^‘:  ■ .'■  ^':.;'j’x 


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5^ 

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15/ 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  ISRAEL. 


XXIX.  THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM.  — AHIJAH  AND  IDDO 

XXX.  THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.  — AHAB  AND  ELUAH 

XXXI.  THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.  — ELISHA. 

XXXII.  THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.  — JEHU. 

XXXHI.  THE  HOUSE  OF  JEHU.  — JEROBOAM  II.  AND  JONAH. 
XXXIV.  THE  FALL  OF  SAMARIA.  — AMOS  AND  HOSEA. 


TOL.  II. 


19 


THE  AUTHORITIES  ARE, 


I.  1.  The  “ Chronicles,  or  State  Papers,  of  the  Kings  of  Israel,”  mentioned 

especially  in  the  cases  of  Jeroboam  (1  Kings  xiv.  19),  Nadab 
(xv.  31),  Elah  (xvi.l  4),  Omri  (xvi.  27),  Ahab  (xxii.  39),  Jehn 
(2  Kings  X.  34),  Jehoahaz  (xiii.  8),  Joash  (xiii,  12;  xiv.  15), 
Jeroboam  II.  (xiv.  28),  Zachariah  (xv.  11),  Pekah  (xv.  31), 
Shallum  (xv.  15),  Menahem  (xv.  21),  Pekahiah  (xv.  26). 

2.  The  “ Book  of  the  Kings  of  Israel,”  2 Chr.  xx.  34. 

3.  The  “ Vision.'?  of  Iddo  against  Jeroboam  ” (2  Chr.  ix.  29)  ; the  “ Proph- 

ecy of  Ahijah  the  Shllonite  ” (ibid.)  ; the  “ Transactions  (lit. 
words)  of  Shemaiah  the  Prophet  and  Iddo  the  Seer”  (xii.  15)  ; 
the  “ Story  {MidrasJi)  of  Iddo  ” (xiii.  22)  ; and  of  Jehu  the  son 
of  Hanani  (xx.  34,  probably  1 Kings  xxii.) ; a prophecy  of  Jonah 
(2  Kings  xiv.  25). 

II.  The  Prophetical  book,  originally  one  book  (Jerome,  Prol.  galeatus), 

though  now  divided  into  two,  called  “Kings”  (Hebrew)  and 
“Kingdoms”  (LXX.),  or  called  after  its  first  words,  “And  King 
David,”  grecized  into  Ouammelech  David  (Eusebius,  Hist.  Eccl.  vi. 
25)  ; with  a few  additions  from  the  Book  of  Chronicles. 

1.  1 Kings  xii.  1 — xiv.  20;  2 Chr.  x.  1— xi.  17;  xiii.  1—20  (Jeroboam); 

1 Kings  XV.  25  — xvi.  20  (Baasha  and  Zimri). 

2.  1 Kings  xvi.  21  — 2 Kings  viii.  15  ; 2 Chr.  xvili. ; xxii.  6-12  (House  of 

Omri). 

3.  2 Kings  ix.  1 — x.  36;  xiii.  1-25;  xiv.  8-16,  23-29;  xv.  8-12  (House 

of  Jehu). 

4.  2 Kings  xv.  13-26,  27-31  ; xvli.  1-23  ; 2 Chr.  xxvill.  6-15  (Close  of  the 

^Monarchy). 

HI.  Illustrations  from  Zechariah  ix.  1 — xi.  17;  Hosea ; Amos;  Nahum; 

Isaiah  vli.  1 — lx.  21  ; xv.,  xvi,  xxviil. ; Micah  i.  5-9;  Jonah; 
P.salms  Ixxvil.  (see  verse  15),  Ixxx,  (verses  1,2),  Ixxxi.  (ver.se 
5),  Ixxxlii.  (verse  4 ?),  Ixxxv.  (verse  1 V). 

IV.  Illustrations  from  the  Assyrian  In.scri[)tions.  These  arc  collected  in 

Rawlinson’s />«7n/>/cn  Lectures  (Lect.  Iv.) ; and  Five  Great  Mon- 
archies^  chaps,  vii.,  vlii.,  lx. 

V.  Jewish  traditions  In  Joscidius  (Ant.  viii.  8 — Ix.  14),  Jerome  (Quoest. 

Ilebraicce),  and  the  Seder  Glam. 


LECTUKE  XXIX. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM.  — AHIJ AH  AND  IDDO. 

The  period  of  the  Jewish  monarchy  on  which  we  no\^j 
enter  is  broken  into  two  portions ; the  first  consisting 
of  the  three  centuries  during  which  the  northern  king- 
dom existed,  and  occupied  the  most  prominent  position  5 
the  second,  of  the  remaining  century,  during  which  the 
Kingdom  of  Judah  was  left  alone.  Partly  from  this 
natural  division  of  time,  chiefly  because  there  is  a real 
unity  and  distinctness  of  design  in  the  history  of  each 
of  the  two  kingdoms,  I propose  to  keep  them  apart  from 
each  other. 

The  name  by  which  the  northern  kingdom  was  called 
carries  with  it  a fulness  of  meaning  which  we  The  King- 
sometimes  overlook.  It  was  the  Kingdom  of  raei. 

Israel.”  It  must  have  appeared  at  the  time,  and  it 
was,  to  a great  degree,  the  kingdom  of  the  whole  nation. 
It  was  a national  watchword,  and  not  the  war-cry  of  a 
single  tribe,  which  led  the  revolt : 

“ What  portion  have  we  in  David  ? 

Neither  have  we  inheritance  with  the  son  of  Jesse : 

To  your  tents,  O Israel : 

See  to  thine  own  house,  David.” 

As  after  the  death  of  Saul,  Abner  took  Ishbosheth 
“ . . . and  made  him  king  . . . over  all  Israel,”  national 

while  the  men  of  Judah  . . . anointed  David 
“king  over  the  house  of  Judah,”  ^ so  it  came  to  pass 

1 2 Sam.  ii.  8,  9,  4. 


292 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM. 


LEcr.  XXIX 


that  aU  Israel  . . . made  J eroboam  king  over  all  Is- 
rael ; there  was  none  that  followed  the  house  of  David, 
••'but  the  tribe  of  Judah  onlj.”^  From  the  extreme 
north  down  to  the  very  coniines  of  the  fastnesses  of 
Judea ; from  the  Mediterranean  sea  to  the  Assyrian 
desert,  and  even  to  the  Euphrates,  the  Kingdom  of 
Israel  still  reached.  It  included  not  only  the  territory 
which  centred  round  Ephraim,  but  reached  far  away 
north  and  south : to  the  distant  Naphtali  beyond  the 
sources  of  the  Jordan ; to  the  tribes  beyond  the  Jordan; 
through  the  whole  valley  of  the  Jordan  down  to  its  exit 
into  the  Dead  Sea;  to  the  corner^  of  Dan  on  the  sea-coast. 
The  frontier  tribes  of  Simeon  and  of  Benjamin,  which 
were  almost  inclosed  within  the  dominion  of  Judah, 
gave  divided  allegiance  to  both  kingdoms.  It  embraced 
the  chief  seats  of  secular  and  of  religious  greatness. 
Bethel,  Shechem,  Mahanaim,  Jericho,  Gilgal,  at  times 
even  Beersheba.®  Only  the  patriarchal  burial-place  of 
Hebron  and  the  Davidic  capital  of  Jerusalem  were  be- 
yond its  reach.  With  the  neighboring  state  of  Phoenicia, 
and  witli  its  maritime  neighbors  of  the  Mediterranean, 
through  Acre,  and  through  Jaffa,  Israel,  and  not  Judah, 
was  Ijrought  into  connection.  Even  though  Damascus 
for  a time  broke  loose,  yet  the  commerce  of  Palmyra 
and  Baalbec  must  have  continued.  Moab  and  Ammon, 
so  far  as  they  were  held  in  check  at  all,  were  dependent 
on  Israel,  not  on  Judah. 

The  Kingdom  of  Israel  was  the  National  Kingdom, 
a«  Prophet-  and  the  Church  of  Israel  was  the  National 
charuc-  later  Prophetical  books  written 

during  the  decline  of  the  northern  kingdom,  when  the 

1 1 Kings  xii.  20.  3 Amos  v.  5;  vill.  14  ; on  the  other 

Zorali  belonged  to  .Judah  (2  hand,  1 Kings  xix.  3. 

Chr  xi.  10). 


L*ct  XXIX. 


. THE  KINGDOM  OF  ISRAEL. 


293 


trans-Jordanic  tribes  were  carried  off,  it  was  known  by 
the  name  of  its  chief  tribe,  Ephraim/  and  of  its  chief 
city,  Samaria.  But  in  the  Historical  books  it  is  always 
Israel,”  and  in  the  earlier  Prophetical  books  it  is 
usually  Israel,”  ^ or  the  children  of  Israel,”  or  else 
bears  the  still  more  significant  names  of  Jacob,” 
Isaac,”  and  Joseph.”  ^ The  original  idea  of  the  disru^)- 
tion  was  that  it  was  a Divine  dispensation.  The  thing 
was  from  the  Lord.”  ^ It  was  as  much  part  of  the 
Divine  economy  of  the  national  destinies  as  the  erection 
of  the  monarchy  itself,  or  as  the  substitution  of  the 
House  of  David  for  the  House  of  Saul.  Thus  saith 
“ the  Lord,  the  God  of  Israel,  Behold,  I will  rend  the 
kingdom  out  of  the  hand  of  Solomon,  and  will  give 
ten  tribes  to  thee.  ...  I will  take  thee,  and  thou  shalt 
" reign  according  to  all  that  thy  soul  desire th,  and  shalt 
“ be  king  over  Israel.”  ® I exalted  thee  from  among 
“ the  people,  and  made  thee  prince  over  my  People 
“ Israel,  and  rent  the  kingdom  away  from  the  house  of 
David,  and  gave  it  thee.”  ® So  spoke  the  two  chief 
proj)hets  of  the  period,  Shemaiah  and  Ahijah.  They 
were  the  supports  of  the  new  dynasty  of  Jeroboam,  as 
Samuel  had  been  of  the  new  dynasty  of  David.  Jero- 
boam seemed  to  them  to  furnish  the  promise  of  a future 
David ; and,  although  this  was  not  fulfilled,  yet  the  Pro- 
phetic hopes  were  still  recruited  from  the  ranks  of 
Israel.  Dynasty  after  dynasty  was  raised  up  with  the 
Prophetic  sanction.  Of  Baasha,  no  less  than  of  Jero- 

1 Ewald,  iii.  412.  The  name  oc-  for  Judah,  after  the  destruction  of 
curs  many  times  in  Hosea  and  Zech-  Samaria,  Zech.  xii.  1. 

Uriah;  in  three  passages  in  Isaiah  3 Amos  iii.  13;  vi.  8;  vii.  2,  5, 
(vii.  2,  xi.  13,  xxviii.  1,  3)  ; and  in  16;  Hosea  xii.  2;  Amos  vl.  6 
Dne  Psalm  (Ixxviii.  9).  * 1 Kings  xii.  15,  24. 

* Israel  ” is  for  the  first  time  used  ^ Ibid.  xi.  31-37. 

6 Ibid.  xiv.  7,  8. 


294 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM. 


Lect.  XXIX- 


boam  and  of  David,  it  was  said  the  Lord  exalted  him 
“ out  of  the  dust,  and  made  him  prince  over  His  people 
Israel.”^  Over  the  head  of  Jehu,  as  over  the  head 
□f  Saul,  of  David,  and  of  Solomon,  was  poured  the 
sacred  oil  of  consecration,  with  the  words,  “ Thus  saith 
the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  Behold  I have  anointed  thee 
^ to  be  king  over  the  people  of  the  Lord,  even  over 
Israel.”  ^ There  is  no  indication  even  amidst  the  worst 
crimes  of  the  rulers  of  Israel,  of  a desire  to  return  to 
the  dominion  of  Judah,  or  to  take  a prince  from  the 
House  of  David.  The  Prophetical  actmty  of  the 
time,  amidst  whatever  discouragements,  is  to  be  found 
in  the  kingdom  not  of  Judah,  but  of  Israel.  The  schools 
of  the  Prophets  had  been  originally,  and  still  continued 
to  be,  not  at  Jerusalem,  but  at  Eamah,  at  Bethel,  at 
Gil  gal,  — all  situated  within  the  northern  state.  They 
live  there  with  their  wives  and  children.®  They  are 
counted  by  fifty,  by  hundred,  by  five  hundred  at  a time. 
For  the  two  centuries  which  followed  the  disruption 
there  are  (if  we  except  Joel  as  of  doubtful  date)  only 
two  who  belong  exclusively  to  Judah,  namely,  Hanani  ^ 
the  seer,  and  Eliezer  of  Mareshah.^  Of  the  others,  who 
by  birth  or  dwelling-place  might  be  reckoned  to  Judah, 
as  Iddo  the  seer,  Amos,  the  elder  Zechariah,  and  Jehu 
the  son  of  Hanani,  their  ministrations,  as  far  as  we 
know,  are  almost  exclusively  directed  to  Israel.  Micaiah 
the  son  of  Imlah,  Jonah,  and  Hosea,  belong  entirely  to 
the  northern  kingdom.  Elijah  and  Elisha  grow  up, 
speak,  teach,  live,  and  pass  away,  entirely  in  the  Church 
i)f  Israel.  Not  a message  of  blessing  or  warning,  if  we 
except  the  one  short  address  of  Elisha  to  Jehoshaphat,* 

1 2 Chr.  xvi.  7. 

5 Ibid.  XX.  37. 

* 2 Kings  ill.  14. 


• 1 Kings  xvi.  2. 

2 2 Kings  lx.  6,  7. 
2 Ibid.  iv.  1,  38. 


Leci  XXIX. 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  ISRAEL. 


295 


And  the  one  short  letter  of  Elijah  to  Jehoram/  reaches 
the  Kings  of  Judah.  Nazarites,  too,  naturally  fostered 
by  the  example  of  Elijah,  were  an  established  institution 
of  Israel.^  A like  institution,  a prolongation  of  the 
primitive  Bedouin  life  into  the  civilization  of  the  mon- 
archy, was  that  of  the  Rechabites.^  The  Jordan  valley, 
or  the  glades  of  Carmel,  the  natural  resort  of  devout 
seclusion,  attracted  these  and  other  companies  of  relig- 
ious men,  who  lived,  like  John  the  Baptist,  or  the 
Essenes,  amongst  the  caves  or  leafy  thickets  of  both 
these  regions.  It  is  only  in  the  last  dissolution  of  the 
liorthern  kingdom  that  the  seat  of  Prophecy  is  trans- 
ferred from  the  ancient  schools  of  the  north  to  Judah 
and  Jerusalem. 

There  was  nothing  in  the  external  state  of  the  king- 
dom of  Israel  to  contradict  this  assumption  of 
superiority  over  the  kingdom  of  Judah.  Ex- 
cept  at  intervals,  and  with  the  standing  modifications 
introduced  by  Jeroboam,  the  ancient  worship  continued. 
The  three  great  festivals,  the  immense  variety  of  sacri- 
fices, the  new  moons  and  the  sabbaths  were  assiduously 
celebrated.  The  new  Temple  was  attended  by  King 
and  Priest,  and  resounded  with  Psalms  of  its  own, 
accompanied  by  the  peculiar  musical  instruments  intro- 
duced by  David.^  The  forms  of  the  court  of  David 
were  continued  even  with  more  splendor  than  at  Jeru- 
salem. It  was  distinguished  chiefly  by  the  stronger 
prominence  of  the  military  character  of  the  original 
monarchy.  As  in  Judah,  there  was  the  office  of 
Captain  of  the  Host,  of  such  importance  that  the 

1 2 Chr.  xxi.  12-15.  4;  Amos  iv.  4;  v.  21-23;  vi.  5;  viii, 

2 Amos  ii.  11.  3,  10.  (See  Dr.  Pusey  on  Hosea, 

3 2 Kings  X.  15  ; Jer.  xxxv.  p.  2.) 

Hosea  ii.  11  ; vi.  6;  viii.  IS;  ix. 


296 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM. 


Lect  XXIX> 


iiidivitlual  holding  it  twice  succeeded  in  obtaining  pos- 
session of  the  throne/  and  that  favors  asked  of  him 
were  almost  equal  to  those  asked  of  the  King  himself,^ 
The  chariots  and  horses  introduced  bv  Solomon  are 
now  so  far  organized,  that  we  hear  for  the  first  time  of 
two  divisions  of  cavalry,  each  with  an  officer  at  its 
head.^  The  same  general  divisions  of  the  army  con- 
tinued, - — the  thirty  officers,^  and  the  body-guard  of 
runners.^  In  one  important  respect,  the  ancient  mili- 
tary glory  of  Israel  was,  if  not  confined  to  the  northern 
kingdom,  yet  regarded  as  eminently  characteristic  of 
it.  Judah,  with  all  its  warlike  qualities,  had  never 
been  celebrated  for  its  archery.  The  use  of  the  bow 
was  there  a late  acquisition.®  But  in  Benjamin  and 
Ephraim  it  had  been  an  habitual  weapon.  The  bow 
of  Jonathan  was  known  far  and  wide.  The  children 
of  Ephraim  were  characterized  as  carrying  bows.”^ 
And  so  the  chief  weapon  of  the  Captain  of  the  Host 
of  Israel  was  his  bow.”  The  King  of  Israel  had  always 
Ills  bow  and  arrows  with  him.®  The  sign  of  the  fall  of 
the  kingdom  was  the  breaking  of  the  bow  of  Israel.’® 
The  sign  of  their  weakness  was  tliat  they  were  like  a 
deceptive  bow.”  The  Kings  of  Israel  drive  about  in 
chariots,  with  horsemen  behind  them  (as  in  the  time 
of  Solomon),  and  a charioteer  driving.’®  There  was,  as 
in  the  court  of  the  Kings  of  Judah,  the  Officer  of  the 
Ilouseliold,  the  Cliief  Minister  of  the  King,  who  at 
times  entertained  liini  at  banquets,  ” and  who  was 


1 1 Kin;;s  xvi.  U)  ; 2 Kings  lx.  5. 

2 2 Kings  Iv.  1.3. 

3 1 Kings  xvl.  9. 

* 2 Kings  X.  2.’);  lx.  25  (licb.). 
Ibid.  X.  25  (lIcb. ). 

® 2 Sam.  1.  IK. 

I*s.  Ixxvlll.  9. 

• 2 Klng.s  lx.  21. 


9 2 Kings  xiii.  15,  16. 

10  II os.  i.  5. 

11  Il)id.  vii.  16;  Ps.  Ixxviii.  57. 

12  1 Kings  xviii.  16  ; compare  2 
Kings  lx.  25. 

13  1 Kings  xxii.  34. 

11  Il>id.  xvi.  9. 


Lbct.  XXIX. 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  ISRAEL. 


297 


received  as  his  representative.^  The  King  had  a noble 
attached  to  his  person,  on  whose  arm,' in  the  true 
Oriental  style,  he  leaned  when  he  appeared  in  public.^ 
There  was  a governor  of  the  capital,  who  bore  the 
exalted  name  of  the  ^^King^  of  the  City.”  The  King’s 
sons  also  occupied  important  places  in  the  state,  when 
the  King  himself  went  out  to  war.^  The  Court  was 
not,  as  in  Judah,  confined  to  a single  capital.  Shechem, 
in  spite  of  its  unrivalled  attractions,  never  became  to 
the  North  what  Jerusalem  was  to  the  South.  The 
Sovereigns  of  Israel  followed  the  tendency  by  which 
Princes  of  all  times  have  been  led  to  select  pleasant 
residences  apart  from  the  great  cities  of  state.  This 
difference  arose  partly  from  the  absence  of  fixed  relig- 
ious associations  at  Shechem,  partly  from  the  succes- 
sion of  dynasties.  It  was  also  fostered  by  the  greater 
opportunities  furnished  in  the  north  for  such  an  increase 
of  royal  residences.  In  the  territory  of  Ephraim  — in 
this  respect  the  exact  reverse  of  Judah — the  fertile 
plains  and  wooded  hills,  which  are  its  characteristic 
ornaments,  at  once  gave  an  opening  for  the  formation 
of  parks  and  pleasure-grounds  like  the  Paradises  ” of 
the  Assyrian  and  Persian  monarchies.  The  first  of 
these  was  Tirzah,  in  the  hills  north  of  Shechem,  of 
proverbial  beauty,  selected  by  Jeroboam,  and  during 
three  reigns  the  residence  ^ and  burial-place  of  the  royal 
house.  Another  was  Jezreel.  The  chief  of  all  was 
Samaria,  which  ultimately  superseded  all  the  rest.  In 
these  capitals  the  Kings  resided,  and  were  buried,  as 
it  would  seem,  with  the  same  pomp  as  that  which 
accompanied  the  interment  of  the  Kings  of  Judah  in 

4 1 Kings  xxii.  26. 

5 Ibid.  xlv.  17;  xv.  21;  xvi  6, 
8,  15. 


1 1 Kings  xviii.  3,  6. 

2 2 Kings  vii.  2. 

* 1 Kings  xxii.  26  (LXX.). 


298 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM. 


Lect.  XXIX 


the  vaults  of  the  sepulchre  of  David.  It  is,  however, 
a difference  characteristic  of  the  two  lines  of  history 
that  whereas  the  Kings  of  Judah  were  all  allowed  to 
rest  in  their  burial-places,  it  was  the  savage  practice  in 
the  revolutions  of  Israel,  not  merely  to  leave  un buried 
the  corpses  of  the  dethroned  and  murdered  kings,  but 
to  disinter  the  remains  of  the  whole  royal  family,  and 
leave  them  to  be  mangled  by  the  beasts  and  birds  of 
prey.  Such  was  the  fate  that  befell  successively  the 
dynasties  of  Jeroboam,  Baasha,  and  Ahab. 

The  evil  effects  of  the  dismemberment  are  obvious. 

But  it  had  also  its  advantao;es  in  brin^ino;  out 

Its  freedom.  . « i i t i pi 

111  fuller  growth  the  diverse  elements  of  the 
nation  and  of  the  country.  Every  people,  called  to 
‘^high  destinies,”  it  has  been  well  said  by  the  French 
scholar  who  has  brought  out  this  peculiarity,  ought 
to  be  a small  complete  world,  enclosing  opposed  poles 
within  its  bosom.  Greece  had,  at  a few  leagues  from 
“each  other,  Sparta  and  Athens,  two  antipodes  to  a 
“ superficial  observer,  but  in  reality  rival  sisters,  neces- 
“ sary  the  one  to  the  other.  It  was  the  same  in  Pal- 
“ estine.”  The  fertility,  the  fresliness,  the  beauty  of 
Ephraim  and  Manasseh,  the  wild  foi-est  scenery  of 
Zebulun  and  Naphtali,  of  Gad  and  Reuben,  were  a just 
counterpoise  to  the  awful  barrenness  of  Judah  and 
Benjamin.  There  was  an  exuberance  of  life  and 
liberty  and  enjoyment  in  the  north,  which  perhaps 
could  hardly  have  been  developed  in  equal  strength, 
bad  the  whole  forces  of  the  nation  been  concentrated 
round  Jerusalem.  “ The  Song  of  Songs,”  which,  as  we 
have  seen,  lireathes  the  sense  of  nature  and  of  natural 
nflection  inoi’e  completely  than  any  other  book  in  the 
Old  Testament,  <‘ven  without  acc(‘])ting  the  conjecture 
which  ascribes  it  to  the  third  dynasty  of  the  kings  of 


Lect.  XXIX 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  ISEAEL. 


299 


Israel,  is  redolent  not  of  the  southern  hills  of  Judah, 
but  of  Tirzah,  of  Sharon,  and  of  Lebanon^  Its  vines ^ 
and  fig-trees,  the  glorious  beauty  of  its  fertile  valleys,^ 
seemed  the  natural  reward  and  crown  of  the  favorite 
son  of  Jacob.^  Dances,  and  tabrets,  and  garlands, 
were  the  recognized  emblems  of  the  life  of  Ephraim.^ 
The  nobles,  like  the  kings,  have  their  separate  palaces 
for  winter  and  for  summer,  built,  not  as  heretofore  of 
brick,  but  of  hewn  stone,  surrounded  by  pleasant  vine- 
yards, and  fitted  up  with  divans,  and  couches  inlaid 
with  ivory.  Their  banquets  were  splendid,  — of  the 
choicest  viands  from  fold  and  stall ; of  wine  served  out 
in  bowls  that  could  only  be  compared  to  the  large 
sacrificial  vessels  of  the  sanctuary.  At  these  private 
feasts,  as  well  as  at  their  public  festivals,  songs  were 
chanted ; and  they  prided  themselves  on  the  invention 
of  new  musical  instruments,  as  David  had  added  the 
harp  and  lyre  to  the  discordant  horn  and  cymbal  of 
an  earUer  age.®  The  stately  independence  of  Naboth 
in  his  vineyard  at  Jezreel,  or  of  Shemer  on  the  lofty 
hill  to  which  he  gave  his  name,  and  which  he  would 
sell  to  the  King  only  at  a vast  price,  was,  doubtless, 
the  common  characteristic  of  many  a landholder  of  the 
tribes  of  Ephraim  and  Issachar.  The  great  lady  of 
Sliunem,  on  the  slopes  of  Esdraelon,  in  her  well-known 
borne,  though  known  to  us  only  through  her  friendship 
with  a mighty  Prophet,  is  a sample  of  Israelite  life  in 
the  north,  as  true  as  that  of  the  reaper  Boaz  or  the 
shepherd  Nabal  in  the  south.  She  manages  her  hus- 
band, sh-e  has  her  servant  and  her  she-ass.  Her  son 

1 Renan,  Cantique  des  Cantiques  ; 5 Judg.  xxi.  19  (Ileb.),  21;  Jer. 

Ewald,  ii.  458.  xxxi.  4. 

2 Hos.  ii.  12.  6 Amos  Hi.  12-15;  v.  11  ; vi.  4-6 

3 Isa.  xxviii.  1-4.  (with  Dr.  Pusey’s  instructive  notes) 

* Gen.  xlix.  22,  25,  26. 


300 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM. 


Lect.  XXIX. 


goes  with  his  father  to  the  rich  cornfields  which  belong 
to  the  house.  She  leaves  her  home  under  the  pressure 
of  famine,  and  goes  down  to  the  plains  of  Philistia. 
When  she  returns,  and  finds  a stranger  in  possession 
of  her  cornfields,  she  insists  on  restitution,  even  at  tho 
hand  of  the  King  himself.' 

In  scenes  like  these,  the  better  spirits  of  the  northern 
kingdom  grew  up,  it  may  be  with  a force  and  freedom 
which  they  could  hardly  have  enjoyed  equally  under 
the  continual  pressure  of  the  imperial  despotism  of 
Solomon.  Although,  as  time  rolled  on,  the  clouds 
gathered  thick  over  the  central  region  and  the  capital 
of  the  rival  kingdom,  which  hung  over  it  long  after  the 
monarchy  itself  had  been  destroyed,  yet  even  in  its 
northernmost  parts,  the  furthest  removed  from  the  sanc- 
tuary at  Jerusalem,  in  the  land  of  Zebulun  and  Napb- 
tali,  by  the  way  of  the  sea  of  Gennesareth,  “ G-alilee  of 
the'  Gentiles,”  the  circle  of  a mixed  population,  h.alf 
Israelite,  half  heathen,  described  as  “ a people  which  sate 
“ in  darkness,  in  the  very  region  and  shadow  of  death, 
a life  and  energy  was  roused  which  appears  nowhere 
equally  in  the  south.  Out  of  these  remote  districts 
came  some  of  the  greatest  of  the  Prophets,-- Elijah, 
Elisha,  Ilosea,  Jonah.  And  though,  in  after-tunes,  it 
was  maintained  by  the  proud  dc.scendants  of  Judah  that 
“out  of  Galilee  arose  no  Prophet,”  and  that  from  its 
despised  villages  “ no  good  thing  could  come,”  yet  liy 
this  benighted  region  “a  great  light”  at  last  “was  seen, 

li(rht,”  sprang  up,  which  more  than  compens.ated 

for  twelve  centuries  of  darkness.  For  if  Bethlehem  of 
Judah  witnessed  tho  Redeemer’s  birth,  if  the  city  of 
David  and  Solomon  assisted  at  llis  death,  it  was  the 
forests  and  the  birds  and  the  (lowers  of  Galilee,  the 

1 2 KinjTH  iv.  18,  22;  viii.  1-6. 


L«ot  XXIX. 


THE  DISRUPTION. 


301 


haunts  of  Elijah  and  Elisha,  the  cradle  of  Jonah  and 
Hosea,  that  cheered  and  illustrated  the  Divine  Life,  the 
life  of  thirty  years,  which  has  been  the  Life  and  Spirit 
of  Christendom. 

The  Disruption  of  the  kingdom  was  not  the  work  of 
a day,  but  the  growth  of  centuries.  To  the  TheOis- 
house  of  Joseph — that  is,  to  Ephraim,  with  its 
adjacent  tribes  of  Benjamin  and  Manasseh  — had  be- 
longed, down  to  the  time  of  David,  all  the  chief  rulers 
of  Israel ; Joshua,  the  conqueror;  Deborah  the  one  Pro- 
phetic, Gideon  the  one  Regal,  spirit,  of  the  Judges; 
Abimelech  and  Saul,  the  first  kings ; Samuel,  the  restorer 
of  the  state  after  the  fall  of  Shiloh.  It  was  natural 
that,  with  such  an  inheritance  of  glory,  Ephraim  always 
chafed  under  any  rival  supremacy.  Even  against  the 
impartial  sway  of  its  own  Joshua,^  or  of  its  kindred 
heroes,  Gideon  or  Jephthah,^  its  proud  spirit  was  always 
in  revolt : how  much  more  when  the  blessing  of  Joseph 
seemed  to  be  altogether  merged  in  the  blessing  of 
the  rival  and  obscure  Judah;  when  the  Lord  refused 
^Hhe  tabernacle  of  Joseph,  and  chose  not  the  tribe  of 

Ephraim,  but  chose  the  tribe  of  Judah,  Mount  Zion 
“ which  He  had  loved.”  ® All  these  embers  of  disaf- 
fection, which  had  wellnigh  burst  into  a general  confla- 
gration in  the  revolt  of  Sheba,^  were  still  glowing:  it 
needed  but  a breath  to  blow  them  into  a flame. 

It  was  a year  after  the  death  of  Solomon,  that  his  son 
Rehoboam  arrived  at  Shechem  for  his  inauguration.  It 
would  seem  that  the  ancient  capital  had  not  lost  its  hold 

1 Josh.  xvii.  14-18.  See  Lecture 

XI. 

2 Judg.  viLi.  1-3  ; xii.  1-6.  Lect. 

XV 


3 Ps.  Ixxviii.  67. 

* See  Lecture  XXIV. 


302 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM. 


LEcr.  XXIX 


altogotlior  on  tlio  countryj  ovgii  aftor  th©  foundation  of 
jGrusalGm.  TIig  liigli  spirit  of  tliG  tribG  of  Epliiaini 
had  been  bent,  but  not  broken.  Their  representatives 
approached  the  new  King  with  a firm  but  respectful 
statement  of  their  grievances,  — the  enormous  exactions 
of  the  late  king,  and  the  expenditure  of  the  revenues  of 
the  kingdom  on  the  royal  establishments.^  The  pause 
before  a great  catastrophe  is  always  solemn.  The  sacred 
historian  looks  back  upon  the  three  days  dur- 
B.  c.  985.  ing  which  Kehoboam  hesitated,  with  a grief 
which  no  partiality  to  the  house  of  David  has  been  able 
to  suppress.  The  demands  of  the  nation  were  just. 
The  accumulated  wisdom  of  the  great  Solomonian  era 
recommended  concession.  The  old  counsellors  gave  just 
such  advice  as  might  have  been  found  in  the  Book  of 
Proverbs.  Only  the  insolence  of  the  younger  courtiers 
imagined  the  possibility  of  coercing  a great  people,  and 
hoped  that  the  little  finger  of  the  new  Prince  would  be 
stronger  than  the  loins  of  his  mighty  father.  It  was  a 
doomed  Revolution.  “ The  King  hearkened  not  unto 
“ the  people : for  the  cause  was  of  God.”  The  cry  of 
insurrection  was  the  same  that  had  been  raised  in  the 
time  of  David  ; Init  with  the  tremendous  difference  that 
now  the  fatal  day  was  at  last  come.  The  sacred  names 
of  David  and  of  Jesse  had  lost  their  spell.  “See  to 
“ thine  own  house,  David.”  It  was  with  one  exception 
a bloodless  revolt.  'I'lie  oldest,  as  he  must  have  been, 
of  that  elder  generation  which  had  counselled  modera- 
tion, but  the  most  obnoxious  from  the  office  which  he 
held,  Adoram,  the  tax-collector,  was  sent  by  the  King  to 
auell  llie  insurreciion.  They  regarded  him  as  a common 
aneiny,  and  he  fell  under  the  savage  form  of  execution 

. *.Th,  m,-vlc  1,1, yoke ho.-»vy  Ul.lc  hc-ivy.”  (LXX.  version  of  X 

.pon  iml  made  tlic  inent  of  l.is  King,  xii.  I.) 


Licit.  XXIX. 


JEROBOAM. 


303 


which  was  usual  for  treason  and  blasphemy.  He  was 
stoned  to  death,  and  the  King  fled  from  Shechem,  never 
to  return. 

The  tribe  of  Ephraim  was  once  more  independent. 
Who  was  to  fill  the  vacant  throne?  There  was  one 
man,  who,  by  his  office  and  his  character,  had  long  ago 
been  indicated  as  the  natural  successor  of  Joshua.^  At 
the  time  when  Solomon  was  constructing  the  fortificar 
tions  of  Millo  underneath  the  citadel  of  Zion,  his  saga- 
cious eye  discovered  the  strength  and  activity  of  a young 
Ephraimite  who  was  employed  on  the  works,  and  he 
raised  him  to  the  rank  of  officer  over  the  taxes  and 
labors  exacted  from  the  tribe  of  Ephraim.^ 

mi  • T 1 TT-r'i  Jeroboam. 

This  was  J eroboam.  His  lather  had  died  in  his 
youth,  but  his  mother,  who  had  been  a person  of  loose 
character,^  lived  in  her  widowhood,  trusting  apparently 
to  her  son  for  support.'^  Jeroboam  made  the  most  of  his 
position.  He  completed  the  fortifications,  and  was  long 
afterwards  known  as  the  man  who  had  enclosed  the 

city  of  David.”  ® In  his  native  place,  Zereda  or  Sarira, 
he  lived  in  a kind  of  royal  state.  Like  Absalom  before 
him,  in  like  circumstances,  though  now  on  a grander 
scale,  in  proportion  to  the  enlargement  of  the  royal 
establishment  itself,  he  kept  three  hundred  chariots  and 

1 The  account  of  the  life  of  Jei  o-  other,  that  it  will  be  most  conveniently 
boam  is  given  in  two  versions,  so  dif-  taken  as  the  basis  of  our  account, 
ferent  from  each  other,  and  yet  each  2 i Kings  xi.  28. 

80  ancient,  as  to  make  it  difficult  to  3 LXX. 

choose  between  them.  The  one  usu-  4 jjer  name  is  variously  given  as 

ally  followed  is  that  contained  in  the  Zeruah  (Heb.),  or  Sarira  (LXX.), 
Hebrew  text,  and  in  one  portion  of  and  the  place  of  their  abode  on  the 
the  LXX.  The  other  is  given  in  a mountains  of  Ephraim  is  given  either 
separate  account  inserted  by  the  as  Zereda,  or  Sarira  (LXX.)  : in  the 
LXX.  at  1 Kings  xi.  43,  and  xii.  24.  latter  case,  as  if  indicating  that  there 
This  last  contains  such  evident  marks  was  some  connection  between  the 
#f  authenticity  in  some  of  its  details,  wife  of  Nebat  and  her  residence, 
tod  is  so  much  more  full  than  the  5 LXX. 


304 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM. 


Lect.  XXIX, 


horses/  and  was  at  last  perceived  to  be  aiming  at  the 
monarchy. 

These  ambitious  designs  were  probably  fostered  by 
the  sight  of  the  growing  disaffection  of  the  great  tribe 
over  which  he  presided,  as  well  as  by  the  alienation  of 
the  Prophetic  order  from  the  house  of  Solomon. 

He  was  banished  by  Solomon  to  Egypt.  But  his 
exile  only  increased  his  importance.  The  reigning  king 
was  Shishak,  and  with  him,  Jeroboam,  like  his  ancestor 
Joseph,  acquired  so  much  influence,  that  when,  on  Solo- 
mon’s death,  he  demanded  Shishak’s  permission  to  re- 
turn, the  Egyptian  king,  in  his  reluctance,  seems  to  have 
offered  any  gift  which  could  induce  J eroboam  to  remain, 
and  the  consequence  was  the  marriage  with  Ano,  the 
elder  sister  of  the  Egyptian  queen,  Tahpenes,^  and  of 
another  princess,  who  had  married  the  Edomite  chief, 
Hadad.  A year  elapsed,  and  a son,  Abijah  (or  Abijam), 
was  born.  Then  Jeroboam  again  requested  permission 
to  depart,  which  was  granted ; and  he  returned  with  his 
wife  and  child  to  his  native  place,  Sarira,  or  Zereda.  It 
is  described  as  a commnnding  situation,  such  as  Solomon 
woidd  naturally  have  chosen  as  a fortress  to  curb  the 
haughty  tribe.  Now  that  the  great  king  was  gone,  this 
very  fortress,  strengthened  by  Jeroboam  afUn*  his  re- 
turn, became  the  centre  of  the  disaffected  population. 

Still  there  was  no  open  act  of  insurrection,  and  it  was 
in  this  period  of  suspense,  that  a pathetic  inci- 
dent  darkened  the  house  of  .Jeroboam.  His 
infant  son  f(‘ll  sick.  The  anxious  father  sent  his  wife  to 
iiujuire  off  lod  concerning  him.  Jerusalem  would  have  ] 
been  the  obvious  ])lace  to  visit.  l‘or  this  [)urpose.  But  | 
no  doubt  political  reasons  forbade.  The  ancient  sane-  i 
tuary  of  Shiloh  was  nearer  .at  hand;  and  it  so  happened  j 
' LXX.  * I. XX.  Tliokcinina.  j 


Lbct  XXIX. 


JEROBOAM. 


305 


that  a prophet  was  now  residing  there,  of  the  highest 
repute.  It  was  Ahijah  — the  same  who,  according  to 
the  common  version  of  the  story,  had  already  been  in 
communication  with  Jeroboam,  but  who,  according  to 
the  authority  we  are  now  following,  appears  for  the  first 
time  on  this  occasion.  He  was  sixty  years  of  age,^  but 
was  prematurely  old,  and  his  eyesight  had  already  failed 
him.  He  was  living,  as  it  would  seem,  in  poverty,  with 
a boy  who  waited  on  him,  and  with  his  own  little 
children.  For  him  and  for  them,  the  Egyptian  princess 
brought  such  gifts  as  were  thought  likely  to  be  accepta- 
ble, — ten  loaves,  and  two  rolls  for  the  children,^  a bunch 
of  grapes,  and  a jar  of  honey.  She  had  disguised  her- 
self, to  avoid  recognition;  and  perhaps  these  humble 
gifts  were  part  of  the  plan.  But  the  blind  Prophet,  at 
her  first  approach,  knew  who  was  coming;  and  bade  his 
boy  go  out  to  meet  her,  and  invite  her  to  his  house 
without  delay.  There  he  warned  her  of  the  uselessness 
of  her  gifts.  There  was  a doom  on  the  house  of  Jero- 
boam, not  to  be  averted.  The  child  alone  would  die 
before  the  calamities  of  the  house  arrived : He  shall 

mourn  for  the  child.”  — ^^Woe,  0 Lord,  for  in  him 
there  is  found  a good  word  regarding  the  Lord,”  — or, 
according  to  the  other  version,  All  Israel  shall  mourn 
^^for  him,  and  bury  him;  for  he  only  of  Jeroboam  shall 
come  to  the  grave.”  ® The  mother  returned.  As  she 
reentered  the  town  of  Sarira,^  the  child  died.  The  loud 
wail  of  her  attendant  damsels  greeted  her  on  the  thresh- 
old.® The  child  was  buried,  as  Ahijah  had  foretold, 
with  all  the  state  of  the  child  of  a royal  house.  All 

1 Ahijah,  according  to  the  tradition,  2 i Kings  xiv.  3 (Ileb,  and  LXX.), 

died  soon  after,  and  was  buried  under  3 j Kings  xiv.  13. 

an  oak,  still  visible  in  the  fourth  cen-  LXX.,  in  the  Hebrew,  Tirzah. 
tuary,  at  Shiloh  (Epiphanius).  His  5 LXX. 
tomb  is  still  shown. 


VOL  II. 


20 


BOG 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM. 


Lect.  XXIX 


Israel  mourned  for  him.”  ^ This  incident;  if  it  really 
occurred  at  this  time,  seems  to  have  been  the  turnincr- 
point  in  Jeroboam’s  career.  It  drove  him  from  his 
ancestral  home,  and  it  gathered  the  sympathies  of  the 
tribe  of  Ephraim  round  him.  He  left  Sarira  and  came 
to  Shechem.^  He  was  thus  at  the  head  of  the  northern 
tribes  on  Rclio])oani’s  appearance. 

Two  Prophets  presided  over  the  formation  of  the  new 
B.  c.  985.  kingdom.  One  was  Ahijah  of  Shiloh,  the  other 
shemaiah.  Sliemaiali  ^ ^^the  Enlamite.”  The  Prophet 

— whichever  it  was,^  or  at  whatever  juncture  — ap- 
peared in  a long  royal  garment,  so  new  that  it  had 
never  been  washed.  He  stripped  it  otf,  tore  it  into 
twelve  shreds,  and  gave  ten  of  them  to  Jeroboam,  in 
token  of  the  ten  tribes  that  were  to  fall  to  his  sway.  Im- 
mediately after  the  stormy  conference  with  Rehoboam, 
Jeroboam,  in  accordance  with  this  omen,  was  elevated 
to  the  throne,  and  then  once  more  the  Prophet  Shemaiah 
threw  his  powerful  protection  over  the  new  kingdom, 
and  warned  off  the  invading  army  from  the  south.® 
Jeroboam  lost  no  time  in  consolidating  his  power. 
His  early  architectural  skill  was  brought  into  play. 
He  was  known  as  the  great  castle-builder  of  his  time. 
Not  Millo  only,  and  Sarira,  but  the  fortifications  of 
Shechem,  and  of  Penuel  beyond  the  Jordan,  were 
traeed  back  to  him.® 

Down  to  this  point,  the  religious  unity  of  the  nation 

1 1 Kings  xiv.  18.  * The  act  which  in  the  Hebrew 

2 The  Hebrew  text  describes  that  text  is  ascribed  to  Ahijah  years  bc- 

he  was  sent  for.  The  LXX.  speaks  fore,  even  in  Solomon’s  lifetime,  is  in 
of  it  as  his  own  act.  the  Greek  text  ascribed  to  Shemaiah 

® Probably  the  Shemaiah  of  1 Kings  at  this  very  crisis, 
xil.  22 ; 2 Chr.  xi  2.  The  title  given  ^ This  is  in  ^accordance  with  the 
hla:  by  the  LXX.  — “the  Enlamite”  Hebrew  text  of  1 Kings  xii.  22  and 

— does  not  however  appear  in  the  2 Chr.  xi.  2. 

Hebrew.  ® 1 Kings  xii.  25. 


Lbct  XXIX. 


CONSECRATION  OF  DAN. 


307 


had  remained  unimpaired.  This  unity  appeared  to  the 
new  King  inconsistent  with  the  separate  frontier  of  his 
kingdom.  The  Priestly  caste  were  closely  linked  with 
the  founder  of  their  glory  in  the  house  of  David  ; they 
were,  by  the  nature  of  their  office,  specially  attached 
to  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem.  Following,  doubtless,  the 
precedent  of  the  deposition  of  Abiathar  by  Solomon, 
he  removed  from  their  places  the  whole  of  the  sacer- 
dotal order  as  it  was  constituted  in  the  north,  and  al- 
lowed the  establishment  of  a new  Priesthood,^  con- 
secrated by  peculiar  rites  of  their  own.  He  determined 
also  on  creating  two  new  seats  of  the  national  worship, 
which  should  rival  the  newly  established  Temple  of  the 
rival  dynasty.  It  was  precisely  the  policy  of  Abder- 
rahman,  caliph  of  Spain,  when  he  arrested  the  move- 
ment of  his  subjects  to  Mecca,  by  the  erection  of  the 
holy  place  of  the  Zeca  at  Cordova,  and  of  Abd-el-Malik 
when  he  built  the  Dome  of  the  Rock  at  Jerusalem 
because  of  his  quarrel  with  the  authorities  of  Mecca. 
But  he  was  not  satisfied  without  another  deviation  from 
the  Mosaic  unity  of  the  nation.  His  long  stay  in  Egypt 
had  familiarized  him  with  the  outward  forms  under 
which  the  Divinit}^  was  represented.  A golden  figure^ 
of  the  sacred  calf  of  Heliopolis  was  set  up  at  each 
sanctuary,  with  the  address,  — Behold  thy  God  which 
‘^brought  thee  up  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt.”^  The 
sanctuary  at  Dan,  as  the  most  remote  from  Consecra- 
Jerusalem,  was  consecrated  first.  It  was  long  Ran, 
afterwards  held  as  a tradition  in  the  north  of  Palestine, 
that  one  family,  in  the  ancient  sanctuary  of  Kadesh 


1 1 Kings  xii.  31  ; xlii.  33  ; 2 Chr.  ing  down  the  people,  and  goring  the 

jd.  15;  xiii.  9.  * priests  (Epiphanius,  Vit.  Proph.). 

2 Ahijah  had,  according  to  the  le-  3 j Kings  xii.  28. 
genJ,  Been  in  a dream  two  oxen  tread- 


308 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM. 


Lect.  XXIX 


Naphtali,  that  of  Tobit/  had  refused  to  share  in  this 
strange  worship  of  the  heifer.”  But  the  more  famous 
shnne  was  at  the  southern  frontier  of  the  kingdom, 
in  the  consecrated  patriarchal  sanctuary  of 

and  Bethel.  i i i ^ t 

Betliel ; tliere  the  grand  inauguration  was  to 
take  place,  and  a Festival,  which  though  a month  later 
in  the  year,  was  evidently  intended  to  correspond  to 
the  Feast  of  Tabernacles.^  The  fifteenth  day  of  the 
eighth  month  arrived.  Jeroboam  was  there  doubtless 
in  his  royal  state,  as  Solomon  at  Jerusalem,  to  offer  in- 
cense on  the  altar,  which,  we  may  suppose,  was  raised 
within  the  temple  that  rose  on  the  hill  of  Bethel,  the 
House  of  God,”  oldest  of  all  the  sanctuaries  of  Israel 
and  of  the  world. 

It  was  in  this  pause,  that  the  first  Prophetic  protest 
was  made  against  the  new  worship.  It  is  as  though 
the  Sacred  History  wished  to  emphasize  the  precise 
moment  at  which  the  Prophetic  order  recovered  its 
equilibrium,  and  at  which  the  first  beginnings  of  a long 
superstition  were  pointed  out.  Suddenly  there  rose 
before  the  King  a Prophet  to  whom  the  Sacred 
Book  gives  no  name.  He  had  come  for  this 
one  special  purpose.  He  was  not  to  receive  hospitality 
on  coming  or  going.  He  was  not  even  to  address  his 
message  to  the  King,  but  to  the  dumb  monument  of 
division,  the  groundwork  of  future  evil,  which  stood  in 
the  temple.  0 altar,  altar,  thus  saith  the  Lord.”  The 
rent  in  the  altar,  the  withering  of  the  King’s  hand,  the 
urgency  of  the  elder  Prophet  to  induce  the  younger 
to  break  his  vow,  the  untimely  death  of  the  younger 
Prophet  in  consequence  — are  so  many  additional 
touches  of  solemnity  in  the  record  of  the  disastrous  in- 
auguration of  the  Temple  of  Bethel. 

1 Tobit  i.  5,  6. 


2 1 Kings  xii.  32,  38. 


Lect.  XXIX. 


IDDO. 


309 


Like  all  that  relates  to  Jeroboam’s  career,  this  story* 
is  obscured  by  conflicting  versions.  Who  was  the 
mysterious  Prophet  ? He  has  been  called  by  many 
names,  — Joam,  according  to  Epiphanius  ; Abd-adonai, 
according  to  Clement;  Jadon,  according  to  Josephus.^ 
We  can  hardly  mistake  in  the  last  of  these  names,  the 
Grecized  form  of  Iddo  the  seer.  He  was  the  author  of 
a work  of  genealogies,  as  well  as  of  histories  of  the 
reigns  of  Solomon,  of  Abijam,^  and  of  Jeroboam ; and 
it  adds  to  the  impressiveness  of  the  warning,  if  we 
may  suppose  that  it  came  from  the  Chief  Prophet  of  the 
time.  The  motives  of  the  Prophet  of  Bethel  are  so 
obscurely  given  in  the  Sacred  Narrative,  and  so  differ- 
ently related  in  the  tradition  of  Josephus,^  as  almost  to 
defy  our  scrutiny.  He  seems  to  be  one  of  those  mixed 
characters,  true  to  history  and  human  nature,  which 
perpetually  appear  amongst  the  sacred  persons  of  the 
Old  Testament;  moved  by  a partial  wavering  inspira- 
tion ; aiming  after  good,  yet  failing  to  attain  it ; full  of 
genuine  tender  admiration  for  the  Prophet,  of  whose 
death  he  had  been  the  unwilling  cause,  the  mouthpiece 
of  truths  which  he  himself  but  faintly  understood. 

The  recollection  of  this  scene  lingered  long  on  the 
spot.  The  sanctuary  of  Bethel  outlived  even  the 
monarchy  ^ of  Samaria.  The  calf”  was  counted  as  the 
God  of  Israel.®  It  was  regarded  as  specially  the  Royal 

1 That  the  narrative  is  long  sub-  scribes  the  elder  Prophet  as  moved  by 

sequent  to  the  events  related  in  it,  jealousy,  and  as  explaining  away  to 
ippears  from  the  phrase  “ cities  of  Jeroboam  the  miracles  that  attended 
Samaria”  (1  Kings  xiii.  32).  the  coming  of  the  Judean  Prophet. 

2 See  Epiphanius,  Vit.  Proph.  c.  3;  “The  king’s  arm  was  fatigued;  the 

Clemens  Alexand.  Horn.  i.  21  ; and  altar  fell  because  it  was  new.”  In 
Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  8,  § 5.  Josephus  the  divine  warm’ng  of  1 

3 2 Chr.  ix.  29;  xii.  15;  xiii.  22.  Kings  xiii.  20,  21  came  direct  to  the 
lie  is  possibly  the  same  as  Oded,  2 younger  Prophet. 

Phr.  XV.  1,  8;  LXX.  'Adda  or ’Adtiw.  5 2 Kings  xvii.  28;  xxiii.  I."). 

t Jo.seph.  {Ant.  viii.  9,  § 1)  de-  8 Hosea  viii.  5;  xiii.  2 (Eu;dd) 


310 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM. 


Lect.  XXIX. 


Temple.  A succession  of  Priests  ministered  within  it, 
and  were  buried  in  the  long  array  of  rock-hewn  tombs 
in  the  valley  beneath.  Musical  services  resounded 
within  its  courts.  But  the  altar  still  was  considered,  at 
least  by  the  Southern  Prophets,  as  an  accursed  spot 
The  doom  which  Iddo  had  pronounced  upon  it  was  fill 
tilled,  if  not  before,  at  least  when  in  one  of  the  earth 
quake  shocks  in  the  time  of  Amos  ^ it  was  shaken  to  its 
foundations.  And  when  at  last  the  place  was  devastated 
on  the  fall  of  the  kingdom  with  which  it  was  connected, 
Josiah  pulled  down  the  whole  structure,  and  had  its  very 
stones  ground  to  dust,  and  mingled  with  the  ashes 
of  the  bones  which  he  found  in  the  adjacent  caves.  One 
only  monument  was  left  standing.  The  story  of  Iddo 
was  still  remembered  in  the  neighborhood.  The  oak, 
probably  the  consecrated  oak  of  Deborah,  under  which 
he  had  sat,  — the  spot,  as  it  would  seem,  where,  on  the 
rocky  road,  the  body  had  been  found  Avith  the  lion  and 
the  ass  standing  by,  Avere  still  knoAvn ; and  over  his 
grave  had  been  raised  a memorial  which  even  the  ardor 
of  Josiah’s  reformation  did  not  destroy. 

The  details  of  Jeroboam's  end  are  lost  to  us.  It  is 
The  “Sin  of  ovcrclouded  by  unsuccessful  wars  with  Judah, 
Jeroboam.”  Avastlug  illucss,  and  by  the  violent  convulsion 
in  which  his  remains  and  those  of  his  children  were  torn 
from  their  sepulchres.^  To  observe  clearly  Avherein  his 
sin  consisted,  is  to  observe  the  moral  of  the  whole  of  this 
part  of  the  history.  It  was  not  that  he  had  revolted 
against  the  house  of  Judah.  For  this,  according  to  the 
narrative,  had  been  put  upon  him  by  the  direct  Provi- 


1 That  the  rending  of  the  altar  In  that  case  verse  5 is  in 

took  place  in  the  time  of  Amos  (lx.  serted  proleptically. 

1)  is  confirmed  by  the  LXX.  reading  2 i Kings  xiv.  10,  11 ; xv.  29. 

)f  2 Kings  xiii.  3 : duaet  repa^  kv  kKeivT} 


UCT.  XXIX 


THE  SIN  OF  JEROBOAM. 


311 


dence  and  sanction  of  God.  Nor  that  he  had  fallen  into 
idolatry.  This  was  the  sin  of  Solomon  and  Rehobo  am, 
against  which  his  whole  life  was  a perpetual  protest.  It 
was  that  to  secure  those  good  ends  he  adopted  doubtful 
and  dangerous  means.  The  anticipations  of  the  Proph- 
ets concerning  him  had  been  frustrated.  Like  the 
apostolic  Las  Casas  in  the  sad  history  of  South  America, 
they  saw  with  bitter  grief  the  failure  of  the  institution 
which  they  had  fostered,  and  from  which  they  had 
hoped  so  much.  It  is  this  reflection  which  gives  a keen- 
ness of  regret  to  the  epithet  so  many  times  repeated, 
^^The  sin  of  Jeroboam,  the  son  of  Nebat,  who  made  Is- 
rael  to  sin.”  To  keep  the  first  commandment,  he 
broke  the  second ; to  preserve  the  belief  in  the  unity  of 
God,  he  broke  the  unity  and  tampered  with  the  spiritual 
conception  of  the  national  worship.  The  ancient  sanc- 
tity of  Dan  and  Bethel,  the  time-honored  Egyptian 
sanction  of  the  Sacred  Calf,  were  mighty  precedents; 
the  Golden  Image  was  doubtless  intended  as  a likeness 
of  the  One  True  God.  But  the  mere  fact  of  setting  un 
such  a likeness  broke  down  the  sacred  awe  which  had 
hitherto  marked  the  Divine  Presence,  and  accustomed 
the  minds  of  the  Israelites  to  the  very  sin  against  which 
the  new  form  was  intended  to  be  a safeguard.  From 
worshipping  God  under  a false  and  unauthorized  form, 
they  gradually  learnt  to  worship  other  gods  altogether ; 
and  the  venerable  sanctuaries  at  Dan  and  Bethel  pre- 
pared the  way  for  the  Temples  of  Ashtaroth  and  Baal 
at  Samaria  and  Jezreel ; and  the  religion  of  the  King- 
dom of  Israel  at  last  sank  lower  even  than  that  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Judah,  against  which  it  had  revolted. 

The  sin  of  Jeroboam,  the  son  of  Nebat,”  is  the  sin 
again  and  again  repeated  in  the  policy,  half-worldly, 
half-religious,  which  has  prevailed  through  large  tracts 


312 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEROBOAM. 


L-ECT.  XXIX 


of  ecclesiastical  history.  Many  are  the  forms  of  worship 
in  the  Christian  Church,  which,  with  high  pretensions, 
have  been  nothing  else  but  ^^so  many  various  and 
opposite  ways  of  breaking  the  second  commandment.” 
Many  a time  has  the  end  been  held  to  justify  the 
means;  and  the  Divine  character  been  degraded  by  the 
pretence  or  even  the  sincere  intention  of  upholding  His 
cause  : for  the  sake  of  secular  a^o^randizement ; for  the 
sake  of  binding  together  good  systems,  which,  it  was 
feared,  would  othenvise  fall  to  pieces ; for  the  sake  of 
supporting  the  fiiith  of  the  multitude  from  the  fear  lest 
they  should  fall  away  to  rival  sects,  or  lest  the  enemy 
should  come  and  take  away  their  place  and  nation,  false 
arguments  have  been  used  in  support  of  religious  truth, 
false  miracles  promulgated  or  tolerated,  false  readmgs 
in  the  sacred  text  defended.  And  so  the  faith  of  man- 
kind has  been  undenuined  by  the  very  means  intended 
to  preserve  it.  The  whole  subsequent  liistory  is  a record 
of  the  mode  by  which,  with  the  best  intentions,  a church 
and  nation  may  be  corrupted 


LECTURE  XXX. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI. 

ELIJAH. 

The  revolution  that  planted  the  house  of  Oniri  on  the 
throne  can  be  traced  with  more  or  less  distinct-  ^ ^ 
ness  from  its  resemblance  to  that  by  which  the 
same  dynasty  was  itself  overthrown. 

For  the  space  of  no  less  than  twenty-seven  years,  there 
had  continued  one  of  those  long  sieges  that  have  made 
the  cities  of  Philistia  famous.  Ashdod  was  afterwards 
besieged  by  Psammeticus  for  exactly  the  same  period, 
as  was  now  the  case  with  Gibbethon.^  The  camp  before 
Gibbethon,  as  afterwards  that  at  Ramoth-gilead,  became 
as  it  were  a separate  power  in  the  state.  It  was  there 
that  Baasha  had  surprised  and  murdered  Nadab,  and 
extirpated  the  whole  of  the  royal  family  of  Jeroboam. 
He  himself  had  risen  from  the  ranks, — ^Hrom  the  dust,” 
— and  a new  Prophetic  glory  hung  for  a moment  over 
his  path.  But  he  too  adopted  the  policy  of  the  dynasty 
which  he  had  overthrown ; and  for  this,  as  well  as  for 
his  cruelty  to  the  fallen  fiirnily,  the  signal  for  his  de 
struction  was  given  by  the  Prophet  Jehu. 

The  first  who  dealt  the  deadly  blow  was  not  the  one 
who  ultimately  succeeded.  The  cavalry  was 
divided  into  two  portions,  — one  apparently  at  ' * 

the  camp,  the  other  nearer  the  capital  of  Tirzah.^  It 

* 1 Kings  XV.  27  ; xvi.  15.  2 \ Kings  xvi.  9,  16. 


314 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OlIRI. 


Lect.  XXX 


was  over  this  body  tliat  the  first  conspirator  presided 
Zimri,  possibly  the  descendant  of  the  royal  house  of 
Saul/  attacked  the  King  in  a drunken  revel  in  the 
house  of  the  chief  officer  of  his  court,  and  murdered 
him  and  the  whole  of  the  royal  family  before  assistance 
could  be  procured  from  the  army.^ 

It  was  but  a brief  victory.  The  rapid  vengeance  on 
The  House  /imri  Avas  a tradition  which  lon^  lino^ered  in 

of  Omri.  ^ o O 

II.  c.  1131.  the  memory  of  the  royal  family  of  Israel.^  As 
soon  as  the  news  reached  the  camp,  the  true  successor 
to  the  house  of  Baasha  was  chosen  in  the  person  of 
Omri,  the  captain  of  the  host.  Zimri  fled  into  the  in- 
terior, perhaps  into  the  harem,  of  the  palace,  and  per- 
ished, Sardanapal US-like,  in  the  flames.'^  His  usurpa- 
tion had  lasted  only  for  a week.  But  a civil  w^ar  broke 
out  on  his  death,  betw^een  Omri  on  the  one  side  and 
tw^o  brothers,  Tibni  and  Joram,^  on  the  other,  wdiich, 
after  a duration  of  four  years,  ended  in  the  triumph  of 
Omri. 

His  accession  to  the  throne  after  such  a succession  of 
troubles  w’^ould  of  itself  have  been  an  epoch.  But  it 
waxs  significant  in  many  ways.  He  must  have  been 
himself  remarkable,  from  the  emphatic  manner  in  which 
his  name  is  used  as  the  founder^  of  his  family,  and  even 
of  the  monarchy  itself,  as  well  as  from  the  one  incident 
which  is  recorded  of  him. 

1 1 Chr.  viii.  36.  See  Lecture  Ahab,  is  called  the  “ daughter  of 

XXI.  Omri ; ” Samaria  is  styled  in  the 

2 1 Kings  xvi.  9,  10  ; Josephus,  Assyrian  inscriptions  “ the  house  of 

Ant.  viii.  12,  § 4.  Omri  ; ” and  even  Jehu,  the  destroyer 

3 2 Kings  ix.  31.  of  the  dynasty  of  Omri,  is  called  in 

^ 1 Kings  xvi.  18.  (See  Ewald,  the  same  documents  “ the  son  of 

iii.  451.)  Omri.”  (Rawlinson,  Fire Monarc7«Vs, 

5 Ibid.  21,  22  (LXX.).  ii.  364.)  The  “ Statutes  of  Omri” 

« Athaliah,  though  daughter  of  are  mentioned  by  Micah  (vi.  16). 


Lect.  XXX. 


SAMARIA 


315 


As  Constantine’s  sagacity  is  fixed  by  bis  choice  of 
Constantinople,  so  is  that  of  Omri  by  his  choice 
of  Samaria.  Six  miles  from  Shechem,  in  the  maria, 
same  well-watered  valley,  here  opening  into  a wide 
basin,  rises  an  oblong  hill,  with  steep  yet  accessible 
sides,  and  a long  level  top.  This  was  the  mountain  of 
Samaria,  or,  as  it  is  called  in  the  original,  Shomeron,  so 
named  after  its  owner  Shemer,  who  there  lived  in  state, 
and  who  sold  it  to  the  King  for  the  great  sum  of  two 
talents  of  silver.  It  combined  in  a union  not  elsewhere 
found  in  Palestine,  strength,  beauty,  and  fertility.  It 
commanded  a full  view  of  the  sea  and  the  plain  of 
Sharon  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  the  vale  of  Shechem  on 
the  other.  The  town  ^ sloped  down  from  the  summit  of 
the  hill ; a broad  wall  with  a terraced  top  ^ ran  round  it. 
Outside  the  gates  lived  a colony  ® of  unhappy  lepers, 
such  as  are  still  to  be  seen  under  the  walls  of  Jerusalem. 
In  front  of  the  gates  was  a wide  open  space  or  thresh- 
ing-floor,^ where  the  Kings  of  Samaria  sat  on  great  occa- 
sions. The  inferior  houses  were  built  of  white  brick, 
with  rafters  of  sycamore  ; the  grander  of  hewn  stone 
and  cedar.^  It  stood  amidst  a circle  of  hills,®  command- 
ing a view  of  its  streets  and  slopes,  itself  the  crown  and 
glorj^  of  the  whole  scene.’  Its  soft  rounded  oblong  plat- 
form was,  as  it  were,  a vast  luxurious  couch,  in  which 
its  nobles  rested  securely,  propped  and  cushioned  up 
‘‘on  both  sides,  as  in  the  cherished  corner  of  a rich 
“divan.”® 

It  was  the  only  great  city  of  Palestine  created  by  the 

1 2 Kings  vi.  33.  See  Lecture  name  remained  after  the  original  use 

XXXI II.  p.  345.  had  departed. 

2 2 Kings  vi.  26,  30.  5 Isaiah  ix.  9,  10. 

3 Ibid.  vii.  3.  6 Amos  iii.  9. 

< 1 Kings  xxii.  1.  Possibly  the  7 Isaiah  xxviii.  1. 

* Amos  iii.  12  (Dr.  Pusey’s  note) 


sir, 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRl. 


Lect.  XXX. 


sovereigns.  All  the  others  had  been  already  consecrated 
by  Patriarchal  tradition,  or  previous  possession.  But 
Samaria  was  the  choice  of  Omri  alone.  He  indeed  gave 
to  the  city  which  he  had  built  the  name  of  its  former 
owner,  but  its  especial  connection  with  himself  as  its 
founder  is  proved  by  the  designation  which,  it  seems, 
Samaria  bears  in  Assyrian  inscriptions,  — Beili-Khmnri^ 
— “ The  House,  or  Palace,  of  Omri.”  ^ 

With  this  change  of  capital,  a new  era  opened  on 
Israel,  wliich  was  continued  on  the  accession  of 
B.  c.  919.  Ornri’s  son  Ahab.  New  cities  were  built  in 
various  parts  of  the  kingdom.^  Two  especially  are 
named,  both  remarkable  for  the  beauty  of  their  situa- 
tion. One  was  rather  a revival,  than  a creation.  It 
was  in  the  days  of  Ahab  that  a daring  architect  of 
Bethel,  named  Hiel,  ventured  to  raise  Jericho 
from  its  ruins,  in  defiance  of  the  curse  of 
Joshua,  which  received  its  fulfilment  in  the  death  of  the 
architect’s  eldest  son  at  the  beginning,  and  youngest  son 
at  the  completion,  of  his  design.^  The  other  was  a new 
ro}^al  residence,  erected  by  Ahab,  at  Jezreel, 
although  not  superseding  his  father’s  choice  of 
Samaria.  It  was  planted  on  a gentle  eminence,  in  the 
very  centre  ?f  the  rich  plain, — ^The  seed  or  sowing-place 
of  God,”  — from  whence,  doubtless,  it  derived  its 
name ; commanding  the  view  of  Carmel  on  the  west, 
and  the  valley  of  the  Jordan  on  the  east.  Towards  this 
side,  a high  tower  stood,  commanding  the  eastern  ap- 
proach.^ The  palace  was  built  close  on  the  city  wall, 
above  the  gateway,  and  the  windows  of  the  seraglio 
looked  out  to  the  public  street  immediately  within  the 
gate.^  Within  its  walls,  or  forming  a conspicuous  part 


Jericho. 


Jezreel. 


1 Rawlinson,  Bampt.  Lect.  105; 
Herod,  i.  465,  7. 

2 1 Kinofs  xxii.  39. 


3 1 Kings  xvi.  34. 
< 2 Kings  ix.  17. 

5 Ibid.  30,  31. 


Lect.  XXX. 


JEZEBEL. 


317 


of  the  royal  residence,  was  a palace  built  wholly  or  in 
part  of  ivory/  a proof  that  the  commerce  of  Solomon, 
by  which  elephants’  tusks  were  brought  from  India,  had 
not  yet  ceased  j and  an  example  of  architecture  that 
apparently  spread  to  the  dwellings  of  the  Israelite  aris- 
tocracy.^ 

In  accordance  with  this  growth  in  arts  and  luxury, 
Ahab  is  the  first  of  the  northern  kings  who  appears  to 
have  practised  polygamy.®  But  over  his  harem  ^ ^ ^ 
presided  a Queen  who  has  thrown  all  her  lesser 
rivals  into  the  shade.  For  the  first  time  the  chief  wife 
of  an  Israelite  king  was  one  of  the  old  accursed  Ca- 
naanite  race.  A new  dynasty  now  sat  on  the  Tyrian 
throne,  founded  by  Eth-baal.  He  had,  according  to  the 
Phoenician  records,  gained  the  crown  by  the  murder  of 
his  brother,  and  he  united  to  the  royal  dignity  his 
former  office  of  Hi^h  Priest  of  Ash  taro  th.^  The  dau^h- 
ter  of  Eth-baal  was  Jezebel,  a name  of  dreadful  import 
to  Israelitish  ears,  though  in  later  ages  it  has  reappeared 
under  the  innocent  form  of  Isabella. 

The  marriage  of  Ahab  with  this  princess  was  one  of 
those  turning-points  in  the  history  of  families  where  a 
new  influence  runs  like  poison  through  all  its  branches, 
and  transforms  it  into  another  being.  It  has  been  con- 
jectured by  a German  critic  that  the  45th  Psalm, 
usually  applied  to  the  marriage  of  Solomon  with  the 
daughter  of  Pharaoh,  was  really  written  for  the  mar- 
riage of  Ahab  and  Jezebel.  The  common  opinion  has 
quite  enough  in  its  favor  to  render  needless  an  appli- 
cation so  offensive  to  our  modern  notions.  Yet  there 
are  expressions  which  suit  this  event  better  than  any 

1 1 Kings  xxii.  39.  Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  13,  § 1 ; c. 

2 Amos  iii.  15  ; vi.  4.  Apion.  i.  18. 

3 “ Thy  wives,”  1 Kings  xx.  5 ; 
also  the  seventy  sons,  2 Kings  x.  7. 


318 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI. 


Lect.  SXX. 


other, — ^nlie  ivory  palaces,”  ^^the  daughter  of  Tyre,”  — 
and  the  absence  of  any  allusions  to  Jerusalem.  And 
there  may  have  been  at  the  time  no  more  of  evil  omen 
to  overcast  the  hopes  of  the  Psalmist,  than  in  the  mar- 
riage-feast of  Solomon,  or  than  in  the  alliance  of  David 
with  Tliram.  But  the  cloud  soon  began  to  gather. 
Jezebel  was  a woman  in  whom,  with  the  reckless  and 
licentious  habits  of  an  Oriental  queen,  were  united 
the  fiercest  and  sternest  qualities  inherent  in  the  old 
Semitic  race.  Her  husband,  in  whom  generous  and 
gentle  feelings  were  not  wanting,  was  yet  of  a weak 
and  yielding  character,  which  soon  made  him  a tool  in 
her  hands.  Even  after  his  death,  through  the  reigns 
of  his  sons,  her  presiding  spirit  was  the  evil  genius  of 
the  dynasty.  Through  her  daughter  Athaliah  — a 
daughter  worthy  of  the  mother  — her  influence  ex- 
tended to  the  rival  kingdom.  The  wild  license  of  her 
life  and  the  magical  fascination  of  her  arts  or  her 
character,  became  a proverb  in  the  nation.^  Bound  her 
and  from  her,  in  different  degrees  of  nearness,  is  evolved 
the  awful  drama  of  the  most  eventful  crisis  of  this  por- 
tion of  the  Israelite  history. 

The  first  indication  of  her  influence  was  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  Phoenician  worship  on  a grand  scale  in 
the  court  of  Ahab.  To  some  extent  this  was  the 
natural  consequence  of  the  depravation  of  the  public 
worship  of  Jehovah,  by  Jeroboam ; which  seems  under 
Omri  to  have  taken  a more  directly  idolatrous  turn.^ 
But  still  the  change  from  a symbolical  worship  of  the 
One  True  God,  with  the  innocent  rites  of  sacrifice  and 
prayer,  to  the  cruel  and  licentious  worship  of  the  Phoe- 
nician divinities,  was  a prodigious  step  downwards,  and 
left  traces  in  northern  Palestine  which  no  subsequent 

2 1 Kings  xvi.  25,  26. 


J 2 Kings  ix.  22. 


L»ct.  XXX. 


THE  PEKSECUTION. 


319 


reforniations  were  able  entirely  to  obliterate.  Two 
ganctiiaries  were  established  ; one  for  each  of  the  great 
Phoenician  deities,  at  each  of  the  two  new  capitals  of 
the  kingdom.  The  sanctuary  of  Ashtaroth,  with  its 
accustomed  grove,  was  under  Jezebel’s  special  sanction, 
at  the  palace  of  Jezreel.  Four  hundred  priests  or 
prophets  ministered  to  it,  and  were  supported  at  her 
table.^  A still  more  remarkable  sanctuary  was  dedi- 
cated to  Baal,  on  the  hill  of  Samaria.  It  was  of  a size 
sufficient  to  contain  adl  the  worshippers  of  BaaP  that 
the  northern  kingdom  could  furnish.  Four  hundred 
and  fifty  prophets  frequented  it.  In  the  interior  was 
a kind  of  inner  fastness  or  adytum,  in  which  were 
seated  or  raised  on  pillars  the  figures  car  ved  in  wood  ^ 
of  the  Phoenician  deities  as  they  were  seen,  in  vision, 
centuries  later,  by  Jezebel’s  fellow-countryman,  Hanni- 
bal, in  the  sanctuary  of  Gades.  In  the  centre  was  Baal, 
the  Sun-god ; around  him  were  the  inferior  viivinities.^ 
In  front  of  the  temple,  stood  on  a stone  pillar  the 
figure  of  Baal  alone.^ 

As  far  as  this  point  of  the  history,  the  effect  of  the 
heathen  worship  was  not  greater  than  it  had  been  in 
Jerusalem.  But  there  soon  appeared  to  be  a more 
energetic  spirit  at  work  than  had  ever  come  forth  from 
the  palace  of  Solomon  or  Kehoboam.  Now  arose  the 
first  of  a long  series  of  like  events  in  ecclesiastical  ln> 
tory  — the  first  Great  Persecution  — the  first  TbePerv^ 
persecution  on  a large  scale,  which  the  Church 

1 1 Kings  xviii.  19;  xvi  33.  ^ 2 Kings  x.  26. 

2 Ibid.  xvi.  32;  xviii.  19,  22.  For  4 Compare  the  inscription?  at 

the  name  “ Baal  ” was  often  substi-  bee,  in  Robinson,  Bib.  Res.  i»i  509 
tuted  in  Israelite  phraseology  the  con-  521  ; and  the  vision  of  Hannibal  in 
jemptuous  bosheth,  or  “ shame.”  This  Livy,  xxi.  22. 
seems  to  have  been  the  text  followed  ® 2 Kings  x.  27  ; iii.  2. 

Dy  the  LXX,  (xviii.  19). 


320 


THE  HOUSE  OF  O^fRI. 


Lect.  XXX. 


had  witnessed  in  any  shape.  The  exteiTiiination  of 
uhe  Canaanites,  however  bloody,  and  nnlike  the  spirit 
of  Christian  times,  had  yet  been  in  the  heat  of  war 
and  victory.  Those  who  remained  in  the  land  were 
unmolested  in  their  religions  worship,  as  they  were  in 
their  tenure  of  property  and  of  office.  It  was  reserved 
for  the  heathen  Jezebel  to  exemplify  the  principle 
of  persecution  in  its  most  direct  form.  To  her,  and 
not  to  Moses  or  Joshua,  the  bitter  intolerance  of  mod- 
ern times  must  look  back  as  its  legitimate  ancestress. 

The  first  beginnings  of  the  persecution  are  not 
recorded.  A chasm  occurs  in  the  sacred  narrative, 
which  must  have  contained  the  story,  only  known  to 
us  through  subsequent  allusions,  — how  the  persecutors 
passed  from  hill  to  hill,  destroying  the  many  altars 
which  rose,  as  in  the  south,  so  in  the  north  of  Palestine, 
to  the  One  True  God  — how  the  Prophets,  who  had 
hitherto  held  their  own  in  Israel,  were  hunted  down 
as  the  chief  enemies  of  the  new  religion.^  Now  began 
those  hidings  in  caves  and  dens  of  the  earth,  — the 
numerous  caverns  of  the  limestone  rocks  of  Palestine, 

— the  precursors  of  the  history  of  the  Catacombs  and 
the  Covenanters.  A hundred  fugitives  might  have 
been  seen,  broken  up  into  two  companies,  guided  by 
the  friendly  hand  of  the  chief  minister  of  Ahab’s 
court,  — the  Sebastian  of  this  Jewish  Diocletian,  — and 
hid  in  spacious  caverns,  probably  amongst  the  clefts 
of  CarmeD 

It  might  have  seemed  as  if,  in  the  kingdom  of  Israel, 

— down  to  this  time  a refuge  from  the  idolatrous  court 
of  J udah,  — the  last  remnants  of  the  true  religion  were 
to  perish.  But  the  blessing  which  had  been  pro- 

1 1 Kings  xvill.  4,  13,  22;  xix.  10,  2 j Kings  xviil.  13;  compare  Araoa 

14  ; 2 Kings  ix.  7 ix.  3. 


Lect.  XXX. 


ELIJAH. 


321 


nounoe'l  od  the  new  kingdom  was  still  mightier  than 
its  accompanying  curse. 

It  was  at  this  crisis,  that  there  appeared  the  very 
chief  of  the  Prophets.  Alone,  alone,  alone,” 

— so  thrice  over  is  the  word  emphatically 
repeated,^  — the  loftiest,  sternest  spirit  of  the  True 
Faith  raised  up  face  to  fixce  with  the  proudest  and 
fiercest  spirit  of  the  old  Asiatic  Paganism,  against 
Jezebel  rose  up  Elijah^  the  Tishbite. 

He  stood  alone  against  Jezebel.  He  stands  alone 
in  many  senses  amongst  the  Prophets.  Nursed  in 
the  bosom  of  Israel,  the  Prophetical  portion,  if  one 
may  so  say,  of  the  chosen  People,  vindicating  the  true 
religion  from  the  nearest  danger  of  overthrow,  setting 
at  defiance  by  invisible  power  the  whole  forces  of  the 
Israelite  kingdom,  he  reached  a height  equal  to  that 
of  Moses  and  Samuel,  in  the  traditions  of  his  country. 
He  was  the  Prophet,  for  whose  return  in  later  years 
his  countrymen  have  looked  with  most  eager  hope. 
The  last  Prophet  of  the  Old  Dispensation  clung  to  this 
consolation  in  the  decline  of  the  State. ^ In  the  Gos- 
pel history  we  find  this  expectation  constantly  excited 
in  each  successive  appearance  of  a new  Prophet.^  It 
v/as  a fixed  belief  of  the  Jews  that  he  had  appeared 
again  and  again,  as  an  Arabian  merchant,  to  wise  and 
good  Kabbis  at  their  prayers  or  on  their  journeys.  A 
seat  is  still  placed  for  him  to  superintend  the  circum- 
cision of  the  Jewish  children.  Passover  after  passover, 
*he  Jews  of  our  own  day  place  the  paschal  cup  on  the 
table,  and  set  the  door  wide  open,  believing  that  that 
is  the  moment  when  Elijah  will  reappear.  When  goods 

I 1 Kings  xviii.  22;  xix.  10,  14.  4 Matt.  xi.  14;  xvi.  14  ; Luke  ix 

* His  full  name  is  Elijahu.  8 ; John  i.  21,  25,  &c. 

3 Malaohi  iv.  5, 


VOL.  II. 


21 


goo 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMTII.  — ELIJAH 


Lvct.  XXX. 


are  foiiivl  arul  no  owner  comes,  when  difficulties  arise 
and  no  solution  appears,  the  answer  is, Put  them  by 
till  Elijah  comes.” 

lie  a])pears  to  have  given  the  whole  order  a new 
impulse,  both  in  form  and  spirit,  such  as  it  liad  not  had 
since  the  death  of  Samuel.  The  companies  of  the 
Prophets  now  reappear,  bound  by  a still  closer  con- 
nection with  Elijah  than  they  had  been  with  Samuel. 
Then  they  were  “ companies,  bands,  of  Prophets,”  now 
they  are  sons,  children,  of  the  Prophets ; ” and  Elijah 
first,  and  Elisha  afterwards,  appeared  as  the  Father,” 
the  Abbot,”  the  Father  in  God”  of  the  whole  com- 
munity.^ His  mission  was,  however,  not  to  be  the 
revealer  of  a new  truth,  but  the  champion  of  the  old 
forgotten  law.  He  was  not  so  much  a Prophetic 
teacher  as  the  Precursor  of  Prophetic  teachers.  As 
his  likeness  in  the  Christian  era  came  to  prepare  the 
way  for  One  greater  than  himself,  so  Elijah  came  to 
prepare  the  way  for  the  close  succession  of  Prophets 
who,  for  the  next  hundred  years,  sustained  both  Israel 
and  Judah  by  hopes  and  promises  before  unknown.  As 
of  Luther,  so  of  Elijah,  it  may  be  said  that  he  was  a 
Reformer,  and  not  a Theologian.  He  wrote,  he  pre- 
dicted, he  taught,  almost  nothing.  He  is  to  be  valued, 
not  for  what  he  said,  but  for  what  he  did ; not  because 
he  created,  but  because  he  destroyed. 

For  this,  his  esj)ecial  mission,  his  life  and  appearance 
especially  qualified  him.  Of  all  the  Prophets,  he  is  the 
one  who  is  most  removed  from  modern  times,  from 
Christian  civilization.  There  is  a wildness,  an  isolation, 
a roughness  about  him,  contrasting  forcibly  even  wdth 
the  mild  beneficence  of  his  immediate  successor  Elisha, 
Btill  more  with  the  bright  serenity  of  Isaiah,  and  the 

* 1 See  Keil  on  2 Kings  11.  12. 


HIS  t»ECULIARITIES. 


( 

i L»ct.  XXX. 


plaintive  tenderness  of  Jeremiah,  but  most  of  all  with 
the  patience  and  loving-kindness  of  the  Gospel.  Round 
i his  picture  in  the  Churches  of  Eastern  Christians  at  the 
; present  day  are  placed  by  a natural  association  the 
I decapitated^  heads  of  their  enemies.  Abdallah  Pasha, 
..  the  fierce  lord  of  Acre,  almost  died  of  terror,  from  a 
vision  in  which  he  believed  himself  to  have  seen  Elijah 
sitting  on  the  top  of  Carmel.  It  is  the  likeness  of  his 
stern  seclusion  which  is  reproduced  in  John  the  Baptist, 
and  which  in  him  is  always  contrasted  with  the  social, 
. gentle  character  of  Christ.  He,  like  the  Baptist,  came 
neither  eating  nor  drinking.”  He,  like  the  disciples 
of  John,  fasted  oft.”^  He  was  the  original  type  of 
the  hermit,  the  monk,  the  Puritan.  The  barefooted 
Order  of  Carmelites,  not  indeed  by  historical  buf  by 
spiritual  descent,  may  well  claim  him  as  their  founder. 
But  he  is  not  the  type  of  ordinary  Christians.  Although 
among  them  that  were  born  of  woman  ” in  old  time 
there  were  none  greater  than  ” he  and  his  representa- 
tives, yet  ^Aiotwithstanding,  the  least  in  the  kingdom 
^^of  Heaven  is  greater  than  he  and  they.”^  When  the 
two  Apostles,  appealed  to  the  example  of  Elijah,  ^Ho 
call  down  fire  from  heaven,”  He  to  whom  they  spoke 
turned  away  with  indignation  from  the  remembrance 
of  this  act,  even  of  the  greatest  of  his  Prophetic  pred 
ecessors.  He  rebuked  them.”  He  went  even  further, 
and  is  recorded  to  have  said,  ^We  know  not  what  spirit 
'^ye  are  of”^  The  Spanish  Inquisitors  in  the  16th  cen- 
tury^ quoted  the  act  of  Elijah  and  the  appeal  of  the 


1 Renan,  Vie  de  Je'sus,  96.  ling  a doctrine,  compel  us  to  quote 

2 Matt.  ix.  14,  15;  xi.  18,  19.  this  conclusion  of  our  Lord’s  address 

3 Ibid.  xi.  11.  with  some  reserve. 

4 Luke  lx.  55,  56.  The  variations  ^ Prescott,  Ferdinand  and  Isabella. 
•)f  the  MSS.,  perhaps  from  the  hesi-  i.  330. 

'.ation  of  the  copyists  to  admit  so  start- 


824 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMTIT.  - ELIJAH. 


Lect.  XXX. 


pons  of  Zebedee  as  a justification  of  their  own  cruelties. 
“ Lo  ” they  said,  fire  is  the  natural  punishment  of 
^'heretics.”  They  forgot,  or  they  knew  not,  that  the 
act  of  Elijah  was  repudiated  forever  by  One  to  whom 
he  was  but  the  distant  forerunner. 

Suddenly,  Elijah  appears  before  us  in  the  narrative, 
as  he  appeared  in  his  lifetime  before  Ahab  and  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel.  Suddenly  he  appears,  like  Melchizedec, 
and  suddenly  he  disappears,  ^Svithout  father,  without 
mother,  without  descent,  having  neither  beginning  of 
''  days,  nor  end  of  life.”  Not  unnaturally  did  the  ancient 
Eabbis  believe  him  to  be  the  fiery  Phinehas  returned  to 
earth,  or  an  angel  hovering  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
world.  Not  unnaturally  have  the  Mussulman  traditions 
confounded  him  with  the  mysterious  being,  The  Im- 
mortal One”  (El  Khudr),  the  Eternal  Wanderer,  who 
appears,  ever  and  anon,  to  set  right  the  wrongs  of  earth, 
and  repeat  the  experience  of  ages  past.  Not  unnatu- 
rally did  the  mediasval  alchemists  and  magicians  strive 
to  trace  up  their  dark  arts  to  Elijah  the  Tishbite,  the 
Father  of  Alchemy.  The  other  Prophets  — Moses, 
Samuel,  Elisha,  Isaiah — were  constantly  before  the  eyes 
of  their  countrymen.  But  Elijah  they  saw  only  by  par- 
tial and  momentary  glimpses.  He  belonged  to  no 
special  place.  The  very  name  of  his  birthplace  is  dis- 
puted. “ There  was  no  nation  or  kingdom  ” to  which 
Ahab  had  not  sent  to  find  him  — ^^but  behold,  they 
found  him  not.”  As  soon  as  he  was  seen,  the  breath 
of  the  Lord  carried  him  away,  whither  they  knew 
‘^not.”  He  was  as  if  constantly  in  the  hand  of  God.  ^^As 
'Hhe  Lord  liveth,  before  whom  I stand,”  was  his  habitual 
expression,  — a slave  constantly  waiting  to  do  his  mas- 
ter’s Ihdding.^  For  an  instant  he  was  to  be  seen  here 

1 1 Kings  xvii.  1 ; xviii.  15.  Comp.  1 Kings  x.  8. 


LacT.  XXX. 


HIS  PECULIAKITIES. 


326 


and  there  at  spots  far  apart ; sometimes  in  the  ravine 
of  the  Cherith  in  the  Jordan  valley^  sometimes  in  the 
forests  of  Carmel;  now  on  the  sea-shore  of  Zidon,  at 
Zarephath ; now  in  the  wilderness  of  Horeb,  in  the 
distant  south ; then  far  off  on  his  way  to  the  north- 
ern Damascus;  then  on  the  top  of  some  lonely  height 
on  the  way  to  Ekron ; then  snatched  away,  on  some 

mountain  or  some  valley”  in  the  desert  of  the  Jor- 
dan. He  was  in  his  lifetime,  what  he  still  is  in  the 
traditions  of  the  Eastern  Church,  the  Prophet  of  the 
mountains.^ 

Wherever  might  be  the  exact  ^ spot  of  his  birth,  he 
was  of  the  inhabitants  of  Gilead.”  He  was  the  greatest 
representative  of  the  tribes  from  beyond  the  Jordan. 
Their  wild  and  secluded  character  is  his  no  less.  Wan- 
dering, as  we  have  seen,  over  the  hills  of  Palestine,  with 
no  rest  or  fixed  habitation, — fleet  as  the  wind,  when  the 
hand  of  the  Lord  was  upon  him,  and  he  ran  before  the 
chariot  of  Ahab  from  Carmel  to  Jezreel,  — he  was  like 
the  heroes  of  his  own  tribe  in  Gad,  in  David’s  life,  who 
swam  the  Jordan  in  floodtime,  whose  faces  were  as  the 

faces  of  lions,  and  whose  feet  were  swift  as  the  roes 
“ upon  the  mountains ; ” like  the  Bedouins  from  the 
same  region  at  the  present  day,  who  run  with  unwea- 
ried feet  by  the  side  of  the  traveller’s  camel,  and  whose 
strange  forms  are  seen  for  a moment  behind  rock  or 
tree,  in  city  or  field,  and  then  vanish  again  into  their 
native  wilderness.  And  such  as  they  are,  such  was  he 
also  in  his  outward  appearance.  Long  shaggy  hair 

1 Mar  Elyas  (Lord  Elijah)  is  a is  more  than  a mistaken  reading  of 

common  name  all  through  the  Levant  “ the  inhabitants.”  See  ]\[r.  Grove  on 
tor  prominent  and  sacred  eminences  Elijah  and  Tishbite  in  Diet,  of 
(Clark’s  Peloponnesus.,  p.  190).  Bible. 

2 It  is  doubtful  whether  “ Tishbite  ’* 


326 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRT. —ELIJAH. 


LRcr.  XXX, 


flowed  over  his  back ; ^ and  a large  ^ rough  mantle  of 
sheepskin,^  fastened  around  his  loins  hj^  a girdle  of  hide, 
was  his  only  covering.  This  mantle,  the  special  token 
of  his  power,  at  times  he  would  strip  off,  and  roll  up 
like  a staff  in  his  hand ; at  other  times  wrap  his  face 
in  it.^ 

These  characteristics  of  the  Arab  life  were  dignified 
but  not  destroyed  by  his  high  Prophetic  mission.  And 
the  fact  that  this  mission  was  intrusted  not  to  a dweller 
in  royal  city  or  Prophetic  school,  but  to  a genuine  child 
of  the  deserts  and  forests  of  Gilead,  is  in  exact  accord- 
ance with  the  dispensations  of  Providence  in  other 
times.  So  the  Unity  of  God  was  asserted  of  old  by  the 
wandering  chief  from  Ur  of  the  Chaldees ; by  the  Ara- 
bian shepherd  at  Sinai ; and  (without  offence,  it  may  be 
added)  by  another  Arabian  shepherd,  in  later  ages,  at 
Mecca  and  Medina.  So,  in  the  spirit  and  power  of 
Elijah,  came  John  the  son  of  Zechariah  in  the  same 
wilderness  whence  Elijah  came,  and  whence  he  finally 
disappeared,  sustained  by  the  wild  and  scanty  fare  of  the 
desert,  clothed  in  a like  rough  and  scanty  garb,  calling 
the  nation  to  repentance  by  the  same  strange  appear- 
ance, and  by  the  same  simple  preaching.  So,  in  later 
times,  the  anchorites  of  Egypt,  and  of  Kussia,  have  come 
forth  from  their  solitudes  with  a startling  effect,  which 
nothing  else  could  have  produced,  to  call  kings  ajid 
nations  to  a sense  of  their  guilt,  and  of  their  duty  to 
God  and  man. 

1 Chrysostom  calls  him  (as  he  does  * 2 Kings  i.  8 ; comp.  Mark  i.  6. 
St.  Paul)  TptTtTjxvg — three  cubits  high.  “ Elijah  was  evidently  the  type  of  the 

2 Adderetliy  “ample,”  only  used  modern  dervishes,  who  allow  their 
besides  in  Gen.  xxv.  25 ; Josh.  vii.  hair  to  grow  any  length,  and  wind  a 
21,  24;  Jon.  iii.  6;  Zech.  xi.  3;  xiil.  leathern  girdle  round  their  loins” 
4.  See  Mantle  in  Diet,  of  Bible.  (Morier,  MS.  notes). 

3 LXX. A fragment  of  it  ^1  Kings  xix.  13;  2 Kings.  il  8 
is  said  to  be  treasured  up  at  Oviedo.  (Heb.). 


L*ct.  XXX. 


THE  DROUGHT. 


327 


I 


•I 


Such  a Prophet  was  naturally  marked  out  for  the  ex- 
tremest  hatred  of  the  Court  of  Samaria.  Emissaries 
were  sent  out  to  search  for  him  even  beyond  the  limits 
of  Palestine.  If  he  could  not  be  found,  vengeance  was 
wreaked  ^ on  the  spot  which  was  supposed  to  have  con- 
cealed him.  But  at  last  the  persecution  itself  was 
stayed  by  a visitation  such  as  in  all  times  of  the  world 
has  in  mercy  checked  even  the  violence  of  fanaticism. 

For  three  years  an  unusual  drought  fell  upon  Pales- 
tine. For  a year,  at  least,  it  extended  also  to 
Phoenicia."  To  our  minds,  the  word  hardly 
conveys  an  adequate  notion  of  the  extent  of  the  visita- 
tion. But  to  Eastern  and  Southern  nations,  where  life 
and  water  go  always  together,  where  vegetation  gathers 
round  the  slightest  particle  of  moisture,  and  dies  the 
moment  that  it  is  withdrawn!  ; where  the  scanty  verdure 
of  spring  fades,  like  melting  snow,  before  the  burning 
heat  of  summer  — the  withholding  of  rain  is  the  with- 
holding of  pleasure,  of  sustenance,  of  life  itself;  the 
springs  are  dried  up,  the  brooks  and  rivers  become  beds 
of  stone,  the  trees  wdther,  the  grass  vanishes,  ^Hhe 
heaven  that  is  over  thee  becomes  brass,  and  the  earth 
that  is  under  thee  is  as  iron.”  Such  a visitation  was 
exactly  the  crisis  for  a True  Prophet  to  make  himself 
heard.  We  see  him  in  a twofold  aspect;  first  as  an  in- 
dividual sufferer,  then  as  a public  champion  of  God,  and 
instructor  of  the  nation. 

The.  first  story  shows  us  the  pathetic,  gentle  recollec- 
tions which  mingled  with  the  national  traditions 
even  of  this  sternest  of  the  Prophets.  In  the 
green  thickets  which  gathered  round  the  yet  unex 

1 1 Kings  xviii.  10  (LXX.).  Menander,  in  Josephus  (jint.  viii.  18, 

* Ibid.  xvii.  15  (Heb.)  ; and  § 2). 


328 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.  — ELIJAH. 


Lkct.  XXX 


haustecl  waters  in  tlie  bed  of  the  Cherith/  the  Prophet 
first  hid  himself  To  him,  as  to  the  Prophets  of  the 
Jordan  valley  generally,  the  leafy  covert  of  the  forest 
was  no  imiisiial  refuge.  Thither,  we  are  told,  night  and 
morning,  came  the  ravens^  that  frequented  that  one 
green  spot,  ^^the  young  ravens”  of  Palestine  that  cry  to 
God  — ^Hhe  ravens”  whom  God  feedeth,  though  they 

neither  sow  nor  reap  ” — and  laid  their  portion  of 
bread  and  flesh  at  break  of  day,  and  at  fall  of  evening, 
by  the  side  of  the  gushing  stream ; and  of  the  fresh 
waters  of  that  gushing  stream  he  drank,  and  his  life  was 
preserved. 

But  the  drought  advanced,  and  the  pools  in  the  water- 
The  widow  course  were  dried  up,  and  the  trees  withered 
phaih.  on  its  banks,  and  the  fowls  of  the  air  ceased  to 
flock  to  their  branches ; and  the  word  of  the  Lord 

came  unto  him,  saying.  Arise,  get  thee  to  Zarephath, 

wdiich  belongeth  to  Zidon.”  It  was  far  away  that  he 
had  to  go,  — beyond  the  borders  of  the  land  of  Israel, 
over  the  hills  of  Lebanon,  down  into  the  maritime  plain, 
to  the  spot  whence,  in  Gentile  fables,  Europa  was  carried 
off  to  give  her  name  and  power  to  the  isles  of  the  West. 
The  fresh  streams  of  Lebanon  w^ould  retain  their  life- 
giving  power  after  the  scantier  springs  of  Palestine  had 
been  dried  up.  But  there  also  the  drought  had  reached. 
We  learn  from  heathen  records,®  that  the  famine  was 
long  remembered  in  Phoenicia,  and  that  solemn  prayers 

1 The  situation  of  the  Cherith  is  latter  {Syria  and  Palestine,  ii.  309) 
uncertain.  The  expression  “ before  well  describes  what  the  Cherith  must 
the  Jordan,”  and  the  connection  with  have  been,  wherever  It  was. 

Elijah,  point  to  the  east  of  the  river.  For  the  whole  of  this  subject,  see 

Dr.  Robinson,  however,  seeks  to  iden-  the  treatise,  “ Elias  corvorum  convic- 
tify  it  with  the  Wady  Kelt,  and  Mr.  tor,”  in  Crilici  Sacri. 

Van  de  Velde  with  the  Wady  Fasael  ^ Menander,  in  Josephus,  Ant.  viii 
»n  the  west.  The  account  of  the  13,  § 2. 


Lsct.  XXX. 


THE  DROUGHT. 


329 


were  offered  up  in  the  temples  of  Astarte  by  Ethbaal, 
king  of  Tyre,  for  the  descent  of  rain  upon  the  earth. 
In  the  village  of  Zarephath,  overlooking  the  plain  and 
the  sea,  dwelt  a widow,  of  the  same  race^  and  religion  as 
Ethbaal  and  Jezebel.  She  had  come  out  of  the  gate  of 
the  town  to  gather  sticks,  as  she  thought,  for  her  last 
meal ; and,  as  she  gathered  them,  she  heard  the  voice  of 
one  faint  and  weary  with  thirst  and  long  travel,— 

Fetch  me,  I pray  thee,  a little  water  in  a vessel,  that  I 
"may  drink.”  She  saw  and  turned,  and  once  again  he 
asked,  " Bring  me,  I pray  thee,  a morsel  of  bread  in 
" thine  hand.”  ^ It  was  one  of  those  sudden  recognitions 
of  unknown  kindred  souls,  one  of  those  cross-purposes 
of  Providence,  which  come  in  with  a peculiar  charm  to 
checker  the  commonplace  course  of  ecclesiastical  history. 
The  Phoenician  mother  knew  not  what  great  destinies 
lay  in  the  hand  of  that  gaunt  figure  at  the  city  gate, 
worn  with  travel,  and  famine,  and  drought ; she  obeyed 
only  the  natural  instinct  of  humanity,  she  listened  to 
his  crj^,  as  that  of  one  who  suffered  as  she  was  suffering, 
she  saw  in  him  only  at  most  the  Prophet  of  a hostile 
tribe.  But  she  saved  in  him  the  deliverer  of  herself  and 
her  son.  There  was  a rebound  of  unexpected  benefits 
such  as  sometimes  even  in  the  prose  of  common  life 
equals  the  poetic  justice  of  an  ideal  world.  It  may  be 
that  this  incident  is  the  basis  of  the  sacred  blessing  of 
the  Prophet  of  Prophets  on  those  who,  even  by  " a cup 
" of  cold  water,”  " receiving  a Prophet  in  the  name  of  a 
" Prophet,  shall  receive  a Prophet’s  reward.”  ^ But  He 
makes  a more  direct  comment  on  the  whole  story,  which 
firings  out  a loftier  and  more  striking  peculiarity: 

There  were  many  widows  in  Israel  in  the  days  of 

1 She  says,  “Thy  God,”  1 Kings  2 i Kings  xvii.  9-16. 
svil  12.  3 Matt.  X.  41,  42. 


3C0  THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.— ELIJAH.  Lect.  XXX. 

Elijah,  but  to  none  of  them  was  Elijah  sent,  save  to 
‘‘Zarephath,  a city  of  Zidon.”  ’ He  whose  life  was  to  he 
employed  in  protesting  against  the  false  worship  of  Tyre 
and  Zidon  was  now  to  have  his  life  preserved  by  one 
who  was  herself  a slave  of  that  false  worship.  Tt  seems 
like  a foretaste  of  Gospel  times  that  this  one  gleam  of 
a gentler  light  should  be  shed  over  the  beginning  of 
his  fierce  and  stormy  course ; that  we  should  see  the 
Prophet  of  Israel  and  the  woman  of  Zidon  dwelling 
peaceably  under  the  same  roof,  and  sharing  together 
the  last  remains  of  her  scanty  sustenance ; she  giving 
food  and  shelter  to  the  enemy  of  her  country’s  gods,  and 
he  creating  and  supporting  the  scanty  faith  of  the  good 
heathen.  It  was  a prelude  to  the  scene  which,  manj^ 
generations  later,  took  place  near  that  very  spot,  when 
a greater  than  Elijah  overstepped  for  once  the  limits  of 
the  Holy  Land,  and  passed  into  the  coasts  of  Tyre  and 
Zidon,  and  met  the  Syro-Phoenician  woman  of  the  same 
accursed  race,  and  blessed  her  faith,  and  told  her  that  it 
should  be  even  as  she  would.^  It  is  a likeness  of  the 
way  in  which  distress  and  danger  make  strange  bed- 
fellows, bring  together  those  who  are  most  unlike.  The 
horrors  of  famine,  the  shadow  of  the  death-bed,  are  the 
Divine  conciliators  of  the  deadliest  feuds.  In  the  history 
of  the  Church,  no  less  than  of  the  individual  soul,  man’s 
necessity  is  God’s  opportunity  for  healing  the  widest 
differences.  These  reconcilements  may  be  but  for  the 
\noment ; the  iron  grasp  which  has  been  forced  open  by 
those  sudden  efforts,  closes  again.  Yet  the  grasp  be- 
comes less  tenacious.  The  end  of  the  golden  wedge 
has  made  itself  felt.  It  was  a true  feeling  of  the  Jewish 
Church,  if  it  were  not  a true  tradition,  which  saw  in  the 
restoration  of  the  widow’s  son  to  life  a pledge  of*  the 

I Luke  iv.  25,  26.  2 ]Matt.  xv.  22-28  ; Mark  vii.  24-30. 


Lisct.  XXX. 


THE  DROUGHT. 


331 


future  that  was  to  arise  out  of  this  double  act  of  tolera^ 
tion.  In  this  boy  (so  later  ages  delighted  to  believe  ’) 
was  recovered  the  first  Prophet  of  the  Gentile  world, 
Jonah,  the  son  of  Ainittai;  repaying,  in  his  mission  of 
mercy  and  pity  to  the  Assyrian  Nineveh,  the  mercy  and 
pity  which  his  mother  had  shown  to  the  Israelite  wan- 
derer. 

The  drought  still  advanced.  The  third  year  was 
now  arrived ; and  (as  usually  takes  place  in  Eastern 
countries,  when  the  calamity  reaches  its  highest  pitch) 
the  King  himself  set  forth,  with  his  chief  minister,  to 
seek  for  such  patches  of  vegetation  as  could  be  found 
for  the  sustenance  of  the  royal  stables.  At  last  the 
mysterious  Prophet,  whom  each  had  desired  to  see  for 
so  long,  appeared  suddenly  before  them.  Behold, 

Elijah  ! ” was  the  message  which  the  faithful  Obadiah 
was  to  take  back  to  Ahab,  — two  awful  words,  which 
he  thrice  repeats,  before  he  can  be  induced  to  return.^ 

Art  thou  my  lord  Elijah?”  was  the  reverential  salute 
of  the  minister.  Aft  thou  the  troubler  of  Israel  ? ” 
was  the  angry  question  of  the  King.  But  it  was  an 
anger  that  soon  sunk  into  awe.  Face  to  face  at  last 
they  met,  the  Prophet  and  the  King.  In  that  hour  of 
extreme  despair,  the  voice  of  Elijah  sounded  with  an 
authority  which  it  had  never  had  before.  The  drought, 
we  are  told,  had  been  threatened  by  him.  It  was  then, 
doubtless,  as  it  still  is,  the  belief  of  Eastern  countries, 
that  seers  and  saints  have  the  power  of  withholding 
or  giving  rain.  In  the  convent  of  Mount  Sinai,  the 
Arabs  believe  that  there  is  a book,  by  the  opening  or 
shutting  of  which  the  monks  can  disperse  or  retain  the 
rain  of  the  peninsula.  The  persecuting  King  became 

1 Jerome,  Pre.f.  ad  Jonam.  See  2 i Kintrs  xviii.  8,  11,  14. 

Ucture  XXXIIl. 


332 


THE  HOUSE  OF  0^reI.— ELIJAH. 


Lect.  XXX 


a passive  instrument  in  the  hand  of  the  persecuted 
Prophet.  An  assembly  such  as  that  which  is  described 
in  the  book  of  Joel/  was  summoned  to  a sanctuary, 
now  first  mentioned  in  the  Sacred  History,  though  it 
evidently  had  long  existed,  and  has  never  since  entirely 
The  meet-  lost  its  sanctity.  Carmel  was  the  peculiar 
mei.  haunt  of  Elijah.  On  its  eastern  summit,  com- 
manding the  last  view  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  and 
the  first  view  of  the  great  plain  of  Esdraelon,  just 
where  the  glades  of  forest  — the  excellency,”  whence 
it  derives  its  name  — sink  into  the  usual  bareness  of 
the  hills  of  Manasseh,  a rock  is  still  shown  bearing  the 
name  of  Maharrakah,  — ^Hhe  sacrifice.”  On  this  rock 
stood  an  altar  of  Jehovah,^  which  had,  in  all  probability, 
been  destroyed  in  the  recent  persecution  : on  this  same 
spot,  probably,  long  afterwards,  Vespasian  sacrificed, 
when  commanding  the  Roman  armies  in  Palestine ; and 
to  this  the  Druzes  still  come  in  yearly  pilgrimage. 
Close  beneath,  in  an  upland  plain,  round  a welP  of 
perennial  water,  which,  from  its  shady  and  elevated 
situation,  seems  to  have  escaped  the  effect  of  the 
drought,  were  ranged  on  the  one  side  the  King  and 
people,  with  the  four  hundred  and  fifty  prophets  of  Baal 
dressed  in  their  splendid  vestments  and  on  the  other 
side  the  one  solitary  figure  of  the  Prophet  of  the  Lord, 
in  his  rough  sheepskin  cloak.  In  the  distance,  and  on 
its  commanding  position,  overlooking  the  whole  valley, 
rose  the  stately  city  of  Jezreel,  with  Ahab’s  palace 
and  Jezebel’s  temple  embosomed  in  its  sacred  grove. 
Immediately  under  their  feet  spread  far  and  wide  that 
noble  plain,  the  battle-field  of  Sacred  History,  the  plain 

1 Joel  iii.  2,  14.  5 Josephus  {Ant.  viii.  13,  § 5). 

2 1 Kings  xvill.  30.  “ He  repaired  * Compare  2 Kings  x.  22. 
the  altar  of  Jehovah  which  had  been 

broken  down.” 


L*ct.  XXX. 


THE  DROl  GHT. 


333 


of  Megiddo  or  Jezreel ; with  the  torrent  Kishon,  pass- 
ing, as  its  name  implies,  in  countless  windings,  through 
the  level  valley;  that  ancient  stream,”  on  whose 
banks  had  perished  the  host  of  Sisera,  and  the  host 
of  Midian,  before  the  army  of  Deborah  and  Barak, 
before  the  sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon.  In 
such  a scene,  with  such  recollections  of  the  past,  were 
the  people  of  Israel  gathered  for  a conflict  as  momen- 
tous as  any  which  had  taken  place  in  the  plain  beneath. 

It  was  the  early  morning.  There  was  a deep  silence 
over  the  whole  multitude,  when  the  Prophet  made 
his  appeal  to  them.  They  answered  him  not  a word.” 

Every  incident  that  follows,  well  known  through  the 
sacred  music  into  which  it  has  been  woven,  enhances 
the  contrast  between  the  True  and  the  False,  in  this 
grand  ordeal.  On  the  one  side  is  the  exact  picture  of 
Oriental  fanaticism,  such  as  may  still  be  seen  in 
Eastern  religions.  As  the  Mussulman  Dervishes  work 
themselves  into  a frenzy  by  the  invocation  of  Allah ! 
Allah ! ” until  the  words  themselves  are  lost  in  inarticu- 
late gasps ; as  Eastern  Christians  will  recite  the  Kyrie 
eleison,”  the  Gospidi  Pomilou,”  in  a hundred-fold 
repetition;  as  the  pilgrims  round  the  Church  of  St. 
John  at  Samaria  formerly,  and  round  the  Chapel  of 
the  Holy  Sepulchre  now,  race,  and  run,  and  tumble, 
in  order  to  bring  down  the  Divine  Fire  into  the  midst 
of  them^  — so  the  four  hundred  and  fifty  prophets  of 
Baal  (for  the  prophets  of  Ashtaroth  seem  to  have 
shrunk  from  the  contest)  performed  their  wild  dances 
round  their  altar,  or  upon  it,  springing  up,  or  sinking 
down,  with  the  fantastic  gestures  which  Orientals  alone 
can  command,  as  if  by  an  internal  mechanism,  and 
screaming  with  that  sustained  energy  which  believes 

1 Siriai  and  Palestine^  Cliap.  xiv. 


334 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.  — FXIJAH. 


Lect.  XXX 


that  it  will  be  heard  from  its  much  speaking  — from 
morn  till  noon,  ITcar  7is,  0 Baal,  hear  ns''  A larger 
spirit  of  Christian  insight,  or  Christian  compassion, 
either  perceives  under  these  desperate  forms  of  su- 
perstition some  elements  of  a nobler  faith,  or  else  is 
oppressed,  even  to  tears  of  pity,  by  the  thought  of  this 
dark  abyss  of  human  corruption.  But  there  is  a ludi- 
crous side,  on  which,  in  this  instance,  the  Biblical  nar- 
rative fixes  our  attention,  in  one  of  those  bursts  of 
laughter,  which  form  rare  exceptions  in  the  Hebrew 
annals,  and  which  when  they  do  occur  need  special 
Elijah’s  notice.  There  is,  for  the  moment,  a savage 
irony.  humor,  a biting  sarcasm,  in  the  tone  of  Elijah, 
which  forms  an  exception  alike  to  the  general  humanity 
of  the  New  Testament  and  the  general  seriousness  of 
the  Old.  He  had  already,  in  addressing  the  assembled 
people,  placed  before  them  in  one  sharp  truculent  ques- 
tion the  likeness,  it  might  almost  be  said  the  caricature, 
of  their  stumbling,  hesitating  gait : How  long  are  you 

to  halt  and  totter,^  first  on  one  knee,  and  then  on  the 
other?  If  Jehovah  be  your  God,  walk  straight  after 
“ Him ; if  Baal,  walk  straight  after  him ! ” It  was  the 
very  action  and  gesture,  represented  in  the  grotesque 
dances,^  first  on  one  foot  and  then  on  another,  round 
the  Pagan  altars.  And  now  the  ridicule  grows  keener 
and  stronger.  It  is  noon,  when  gods  and  men  under 
that  burning  sun  may  be  thought  to  have  withdrawn 
to  rest.  And  Elijah  the  Tishbite”^  (so  he  is  described 
in  his  full  human  personality)  cannot  restrain  himself, 
and  cheers  them  on,  — Cry  with  a loud  voice,  louder 
and  louder  yet,  for  he  is  a god ; for  he  has  his  head 

1 1 Kings  xviii.  21  (Heb.  and  2 i Kings  xvlil.  26  (Heb.).  See 
LXX.).  See  Ewald,  iii.  492.  Thenius. 

2 Ibid.  27  (LXX.). 


Leot.  SLX.X. 


THE  DROUGHT. 


336 


“ full,  and  is  too  busy  to  Lear  youx  prayer ; or  per- 

chance  he  has  his  stomach^  full,  and  has  gone  aside 

into  retirement ; or  perchance  in  the  heat  of  the  day 
‘^he  is  asleep,  and  must  be  a, wakened.”  The  prophets 
of  Baal  took  Elijah  at  his  word.  Like  the  Dervishes, 
who  eat  glass,  seize  living  snakes  with  their  teeth, 
throw  themselves  prostrate  for  their  mounted  chief  to 
ride  over  them ; like  the  Corybantian  priests  of 
Cybele ; like  the  Fakirs  of  India,  — they  now,  in  their 
frenzied  state,  tossed  to  and  fro  the  swords  and  lances 
which  formed  part  of  their  fantastic  worship,  and 
gashed  themselves  and  each  other,  till  they  were 
smeared  with  blood ; and  mingled  with  their  loud  yells 
to  the  silent  and  sleeping  divinity  those  ravings  which 
formed  the  dark  side  of  ancient  prophecy.  The  mid- 
day heat  is  now  passed  ; the  altar  still  remains  un- 
touched ; even  fraud,  if  there  were  fraud,  has  been 
unsuccessful.^  And  now  comes  the  contrast  of  the 
calmness  and  tranquillity  of  the  true  Prophet.  Elijah 
bade  the  hostile  prophets^  stand  aloof,  and  called  the 
people  round  him.  He  was  standing  amidst  the  ruins 
of  the  ancient  altar.  With  his  own  hands  he  gathered 
twelve  stones  from  its  fragments.  The  sacred  character 
of  the  northern  kingdom,  as  representing  the  twelve 
tribes  of  ^Hsrael,”  the  ancient  Patriarchal  Israel,  was 
not  forgotten.  These  twelve  sacred  blocks  were  piled 
up  ; the  sacrifice  duly  prepared ; the  water  brought 
from  the  adjacent  well.  And  then  as  the  hour  of  the 
evening  sacrifice  drew  near,  and  as  the  sun  began  to 

1 So  may  be  kept  up  the  play  on  the  fire  died  of  the  suffocation.  Eph- 

the  curious  words  stff  and  stack  (ver.  rem  Syr.  Comm.  ?id  loc. ; Chrysostom, 
27),  untranslatable  into  English.  (See  in  Petrum  Apost.  et  Eliam  Proph.  i« 
Theni'is  on  the  passage.)  765. 

2 An  old  tradition  maintained  that  ^ i Kings  xviii.  30  (LXX.). 

A man  put  inside  the  altar  to  kindle 


TJII-:  HOUSE  OF  OMHL  — ELIJAH.  Lect.  XXX 

flescend  towards  the  westeni  sea,  with  no  frantic  gesticu 
lation  or  vain  reiteration,  he  sent  up  into  the  evening 
Elijah’s  heaven^  four  short  cries  to  the  God  of  his 
prayer.  fatliors  I — “ Jeiiovaii,  the  God  of  Abraham, 
Isaac,  and  Jacob,  hear  me  : 

Jehovah  : hear  me  this  day  in  fire,  and  let  all  this 
people  know  that  Thou  art  Jehovah,  the  God  of  Israel, 
and  / am  Thy  servant,  and  through  Thee  I have  done 
‘Sail  these  things. 

“ Hear  me,  0 Jehovah  : 

“ Hear  me,  and  let  this  people  know  that  Thoii^ 
“Jehovah,  art  the  God,  and  that  Thou  hast  turned  their 
“hearts  back  again.” ^ 

On  the  open  mountain-top  (this  is  the  effect  of  the 
sacred  narrative),  and  to  the  few  words  needing  not 
more  than  a few  seconds  to  utter,  the  answer  came 
which  had  been  denied  to  the  vast  concourse  of 
prophets,  to  their  many  hours  of  eager  application  and 
self-inflicted  torture.  It  was  the  difference  between  the 
vain  and  unmeaning  superstition  of  fanatics,  “which 
“ availeth  nothing,”  and  the  effectual  fervent  prayer  of 
one  righteous  man,®  “which  availeth  much.”  “Then 
“ fell  fire  from  Jehovah  from  heaven.”^ 

There  is  an  exultant  triumph  in  the  words  in  which 
The  sacri-  f sacrcd  liistorian  describes  the  completeness 
of  the  conflagration.  The  fragments  of  the  ox 
on  the  summit  of  the  altar  first  disappear;  then  the  pile 
of  Avood,  heaped  from  the  forests  of  Carmel ; next  the 
very  stones  of  the  altar  crumble  in  the  flames ; then 
the  dust  of  the  earth  that  had  been  thrown  out  of  the 
trench ; and  lastly,  the  water  in  the  deep  trench  round 


1 aveSoTjaev  eig  rbv  ovoavov,  1 Kings 
tviii.  86  (LXX.). 

^ 1 Kings  xviii.  37  (LXX.). 


3 James  v.  16. 

4 1 Kings  xviii.  38  (LXX.). 


Ljicr.  XXX. 


THE  DROUGHT. 


337 


the  altar  is  licked  up  by  the  fiery  tongues,  and  leaves 
the  whole  place  bare.  The  altar  itself  had  been  an 
emblem  ^^of  the  tribes  of  the  sons  of  Israel.”  Its 
envelopment  in  this  celestial  fire  was  an  emblem  no 
less  of  the  reconstruction  of  the  kingdom,  — a token 
that  the  God  of  Israel  had  turned  their  heart  back 
again.”  So  for  the  moment  it  seemed.  Jehovah, 
EE  is  God ! Jehovah,  he  is  God ! ” was  the  universal 
cry ; as  if,  turning  (by  a slight  inversion)  the  name  of 
the  Prophet  himself  into  a war-cry,  Eli-Jah-hu,”  — 
3Ii/  God,  He  is  Jehovah!'  Before  him  the  whole  multi- 
tude lay  prostrate  on  the  mountain-side.  He  was  now 
the  ruler  of  the  nation.  His  word  was  law.  -The  massa- 
In  that  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling  the  wheel 
had  come  full  cycle  round.”  The  persecutors  became 
the  victims.  The  prophets  of  Baal  were  seized ; they 
were  swept  away  by  the  wdld  multitude.  Elijah  him- 
self led  them  down  the  mountain-slopes  to  the  gorge 
of  the  Kishon.  As  Phinehas,  as  Samuel,  before  him,  so 
Elijah  now  took  upon  himself  the  dreadful  office  of 
executioner.  Sw^ord^  in  hand  he  stood  over  the  unresist- 
ing prophets,  and  in  one  swdft  and  terrible  slaughter 
they  fell  by  the  sacred  stream.^  The  name  of  the  “ Hill 
of  the  Priests  ” possibly  commemorates  their  end. 

On  the  peaceful  top  of  the  mountain  the  sacrificial 
feast  was  spread,  and  to  this,  at  Elijah’s  bidding, 

1 Tr-  ^ r-  1 T • 1 1 ? The  storm. 

Uie  King  went  up  ; for  already  in  the  Prophets 
inward  ear  there  was  the  sound  of  the  tread  of  rain.”  ^ 
At  the  top  of  the  mountain,”  but  on  a lower  declivity,^ 
Elijah  bent  himself  down,  with  his  head,  in  the  Oriental 
attitude  of  entire  abstraction,  placed  between  his  knees ; 

1 1 Kings  xvlii.  40;  xix.  1.  3 i Kings  xviii.  41  (LXX.). 

2 For  the  general  principle  of  this  ^ 'Phis  appears  from  the  words  “ go 

act,  see  Lecture  XI.  up  ” in  xvlll,  43,  44. 

VOL.  II.  22 


338 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMHL  — ELIJAH. 


Lect.  XXX 


whilst  Ills  attendant  boy  mounted  to  the  highest  point  of 
all,  whence,  over  the  western  ridge,  there  is  a wide  view 
of  the  blue  w^aters  of  tlie  Mediterranean  Sea.  The  sun 
must  have  been  now  gone  down.  But  the  cloudless  sky 
W'ould  be  lit  up  by  the  long  lu'ight  glow  which  succeeds 
an  Eastern  sunset.  Seven  times  the  youthful  w'atcher 
ascended  and  looked  ; and  seven  times  “there  was  noth- 
“ ing.”  The  sky  wtis  still  clear ; the  sea  \vas  still  calm. 
At  last  out  of  the  far  horizon  there  arose  a little  cloud 
the  first  that  for  days  and  months  had  passed  across  the 
heavens ; and  it  grew^  in  tiie  deepening  shades  of  even- 
ing, and  quickly  the  wdiole  sky  was  overcast,  and  the 
forests  of  Carmel  shook  in  the  w elcome  sound  of  those 
mighty  wunds  wdiich  in  Eastern  regions  precede  a coming 
tempest.  Each  from  his  separate  height,  the  King  and 
the  Prophet  descended.  The  cry  of  the  boy  from  his 
mountain  watch  ^ had  hardly  been  uttered  wdien  the 
storm  broke  upon  the  plain  ; and  the  torrent  of  Kishon 
began  to  swell.  The  King  had  not  a moment  to  lose  lest 
he  should  be  unable  to  reach  Jezreel.  He  mounted  his 
chariot  at  the  loot  of  the  hill.  And  Elijah  \vas  touched 
as  by  a supporting  hand ; and  he  snatched  up  his  stream- 
ing mantle  and  twisted  it  round  his  loins,  and,  amidst  the 
rushing  storm  wdth  which  the  night  closed  in,  he  out- 
stripped even  the  speed  of  the  royal  horses,  and  “ ran 
“before  the  chariot”  — as  the  Bedouins  of  his  native 
G ilead  would  still  run,  with  inexhaustible  strength  — to 
the  entrance  of  Jezreel,  distant,  though  visible,  from  the 
scene  of  his  triumph. 

The  story  of  Elijah,  like  the  story  of  Athanasius,  is 
full  of  sudden  reverses.  The  prophets  of  Baal  were  de- 
stroyed ; Ahab  was  cowed.  But  the  ruling  spirit  of  the 
hierarchy  and  of  the  kingdom  remained  undaunted ; 

I 1 Kings  xviii.  44  (Heb.).  See  Tlienius. 


Lect.  XXX. 


THE  FLIGHT  TO  HOREB. 


339 


Jezebel  was  not  dismayed.  With  one  of  those  tremen 
dous  vows  which  mark  the  history  of  the  Semitic  race, 
both  within  and  without  the  Jewish  pale,  — the  vow  of 
Jephthah,  the  vow  of  Said,  the  vow  of  Hannibal,  — she 
sent  a messenger  to  Elijah,  saying,  ^^As  surely  as  thou 
‘^art  Elijah,  and  I am  Jezebel,  so  may  God  do  to  me,  and 
" more  also,  if  I make  not  thy  life  to-morrow,  about  this 
time,  as  the  life  of  one  of  them.”  ^ 

The  Prophet  who  had  confronted  Ahab  and  the 
national  assembly  trembled  ^ before  the  implacable 
Queen.  It  was  the  crisis  of  his  life.  One  only  out  of 
that  vast  multitude  remained  faithful  to  him,  — the 
Zidonian  boy  of  Zarephath,  as  Jewish  tradition  believed, 
the  future  Jonah.  With  this  child  as  his  sole  compan- 
ion, he  left  the  border  of  Israel,  and  entered  — so  far  as 
we  know  for  the  first  and  only  time  — the  frontier  of 
the  rival  kingdom.  But  he  halted  not  there,  pnghtto 
Only  an  apocryphal  tradition  points  out  the 
mark  of  his  sleeping  form,  on  a rock  half-way  between 
Jerusalem  and  Bethlehem.^  He  reached  the  limit  of 
the  Holy  Land.  At  Beersheba^  he  left  his  attendant 
youth,  and  thence  plunged  into  the  desert.  Under  a 
solitary  ^ flowering  broom  of  the  desert,  he  lay  down  to 
die.  It  is  enough ; now,  0 Jehovah,  take  away  my 
life ; for  I am  not  better  than  my  fathers.”  It  is  the 
desponding  cry  of  many  a gallant  spirit,  in  the  day  of 
disappointment  and  desertion.  But,  once  and  again,  an 
unknown  messenger,®  or  an  angelic  visitant,  gave  him 
sustenance  and  comfort ; and  “ in  the  strength  of  that 

1 1 Kings  xlx.  2 (LXX.).  that  the  narrative  is  from  an  IsraeUle 

2 Ibid.  3 (LXX.).  historian. 

3 See  Elijah,  in  Diet,  of  Bible.,  i.  ® “ One  re<cw-tree”  (1  Kings  xix. 

528,  note.  4,  5,  Heb.). 

4 The  addition  “ which  belongeth  6 1 Kings  xix.  5,  7 ; Ileb.  mnleac^ 
to  Judah  ” seems  almost  to  indicate  a messenger,  and  hence  an  angel  { 

LXX.  TIQ. 


840 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.  - ELIJAH 


Lect.  XXX 


“meat  he  went  forty  days  and  forty  nights”  across  the 
platform  of  tlie  Sinaitic  desert,  till  he  came  “to  the 
“mount  of  God,  to  Iloreb”  It  is  the  only  time,  since 
the  days  of  Moses,  that  the  course  of  the  Sacred 
TTistory  brings  us  back  to  those  sacred  solitudes.  Of 
pilgrims,  if  any  there  were,  to  those  early  haunts  of 
Israel,  Elijah’s  name  alone  has  come  down  to  us.  In 
“//ic  cave”  (so  it  is  called,  whether  from  its  being  the 
usual  resort,  or  from  the  fame  of  this  single  visit)  — in 
the  cave,  well-known  then,  though  uncertain  now,  Ehjah 
passed  the  night.^  There  is  nothing  to  confirm,  but 
there  is  nothing  to  contradict,  the  belief  that  it  may 
have  been  in  that  secluded  basin,  which  has  been  long 
pointed  out  as  the  spot,  beneath  the  summit  of  what  is 
called  “ the  Mount  of  Moses.”  One  tall  cj^iress  stands 
in  the  centre  of  the  little  upland  plain.  A ruined 
chapel  covers  the  rock  on  which  the  Prophet  is  believed 
to  have  rested,  on  the  slope  of  the  hill.  A well  and 
tank,  ascribed  to  him,  are  on  the  other  side  of  the  basin. 
The  granite  rocks  enclose  it  on  every  side,  as  though  it 
were  a natural  sanctuary.  No  scene  could  be  more 
suitable  for  the  vision  which  follows.  • It  was,  if  not  the 
first  Prophetic  call  to  Elijah,  the  first  Prophetic  mani- 
festation to  him  of  the  Divine  Will  and  the  Divine 
Nature.  It  was  a marked  crisis  not  only  in  his  own  life, 
but  in  the  history  of  the  whole  Prophetic  Dispensation. 

lie  is  drawn  out  by  the  warning,  like  that  which 
Vision  of  came  to  Moses  on  the  same  spot,  and  stands  on 
Horeb.  mountain-side,  expecting  the  signs  of  the 

Divine  Presence.  He  listened ; and  there  came  the 
sound  of  a rushing  hurricane,  which  burst  through  the 
mountain  wall  and  rolled  down  the  granite  rocks  in 
massive  fragments  round  him.  “But  Jehovah  was  noi 
“in  the  wind.”  He  stood  firm  on  his  feet,  expecting  it 

1 1 Bangs  XLX.  9 (lleb.).  See  Ewald. 


UcT.  XXX. 


THE  VISION  OF  HOREB. 


341 


again;  and  under  his  feet  the  solid  mountain  shook, 
with  the  shock  of  a mighty  earthquake.  “^^But  Jehovah 
was  not  in  the  earthquake.”  He  looked  out  on  the  hills 
as  they  rose  before  him  in  the  darkness  of  the  night ; 
and  they  flamed  with  flashes  of  fire,  as  in  the  days  of 
Moses.  But  Jehovah  was  not  in  the  fire.”  And  then, 
in  the  deep  stillness  of  the  desert  air — ^ unbroken  by 
falling  stream,  or  note  of  bird,  or  tramp  of  beast,  or  cry 
of  man  — came  the  whisper,  of  a voice  as  of  a gentle 
breath  ^ — of  a voice  so  small  that  it  was  almost  like 
silence.  Then  he  knew  that  the  moment  was  come. 
He  drew,  as  was  his  wont,  his  rough  mantle  over  his 
head ; he  wrapt  his  face  in  its  ample  folds ; he  came  out 
from  the  sheltering  rock,  and  stood  beneath  the  cave  to 
receive  the  Divine  communications. 

They  blended  with  the  vision  ; one  cannot  be  under- 
stood without  the  other.  They  both  alike  contain  the 
special  message  to  Elijah,  and  the  universal  message  to 
the  Universal  Church.  Each  is  marked  and  explained 
by  the  Divine  question  and  the  human  answer,  twice 
repeated:  ^^What  doest  thou  here,  Elijah:  thou,  the 
Prophet  of  Israel,  here  in  the  deserts  of  Arabia  ? ” — 
“1  have  been  very  jealous  for  Jehovah,  the  God  of  hosts: 
“ because  the  children  of  Israel  have  forsaken  Thy 
covenant,  thrown  down  Thine  altars,  and  slain  Thy 
^ prophets  with  the  sword ; and  I,  even  I only,  am  left ; 

and  they  seek  my  life,  to  take  it  away.”  He  thinks 
that  the  best  boon  that  he  can  ask  is  that  his  life  should 
be  taken  away.  It  is  a failure,  a mistake ; he  is  not 
better  than  his  fathers.  Such  is  the  complaint  of  Elijah, 
which  carries  with  it  the  complaint  of  many  a devout 
heart  and  gifted  mind,  when  the  world  has  turned 
against  them,  when  their  words  and  deeds  have  been 

1 Kings  xlx.  12  (LXX.). 


342 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.  - ELIJAH. 


Lect.  XXX 


misinterpreted,  when  they  have  struggled  in  vain 
against  the  wickedness,  the  folly,  the  stupidity  of  man- 
kind. But  the  answer  to  them  is  contained  in  the 
blessing  on  independence.  It  is  the  blessing  on  Ath- 
anasius against  the  world ; it  is  the  encouragement  to 
the  angel  Abdiel,  — “Amongst  the  faithless,  faithful 
“ only  he.”  Resistance  to  evil,  even  in  the  desert  soli- 
tude, is  a new  starting-point  of  life.  He  has  still  a task 
before  him.  “ Go,  return  on  thy  way  to  the  wilderness 
“of  Damascus.”  He  is  to  go  on  through  good  report 
and  evil ; though  his  own  heart  fail  him,  and  hundreds 
fall  away.  When  he  comes,  he  is  to  anoint  Gentile  and 
Hebrew,  King  and  Prophet.  His  work  is  not  over ; it 
has  but  just  begun.  In  the  three  names,  Hazael,  Jehu, 
Elisha,  is  contained  the  history  of  the  next  generation 
of  Israel. 

But  the  vision  reaches  beyond  his  own  immediate 
horizon.  It  discloses  to  him  the  true  relations  of  a 
Prophet  to  the  world  and  to  the  Church.  The  Queen 
with  fire  and  sword,  the  splendid  temples  of  Jezreel  and 
Samaria,  the  whole  nation  gone  astray  after  her,  seemed 
to  be  on  one  side ; and  the  solitary  Prophet,  in  the  soli- 
tary wilderness,  on  the  other  side.  So  it  seemed : but 
so  it  was  not.  The  wind,  the  earthquake,  and  the  fire 
might  pass  over  him.  But  God  was  not  in  them.  Nor 
was  He  in  the  power  and  grandeur  of  the  State  or 
Church  of  Israel.  Deep  down  in  the  heart  of  the  nation, 
in  the  caves  of  Carmel,  unknown  to  him,  unknown  to 
each  other,  are  seven  thousand,  who  had  not,  by  word 
or  deed,  acknowledged  the  power  of  Baal.  In  them  God 
was  still  present.  In  them  was  the  first  announcement 
of  the  doctrine,  often  repeated  by  later  Prophets,  of  an 
“ Israel  within  Israel,”  — of  a remnant  ^ of  good  which 


See  Lecture  XXXVIII. 


Lect.  XXX. 


THE  VISION  OF  HOREB 


343 


embraced  the  true  hope  of  the  future.  It  is  the  pro- 
found Evangelical  truth,  then  first  beginning  to  dawn 
upon  the  earth,  that  there  is  a distinction  between  the 
nation  and  the  individual,  between  the  outward  di- 
visions of  sects  or  churches,  and  the  inward  divisions 
which  run  across  them, — good  in  the  midst  of  evil,  truth 
in  the  midst  of  error,  internal  invisible  agreement  amidst 
external  visible  dissension. 

It  is  further  a revelation  to  Elijah,  not  only  concern- 
ing himself  and  the  world,  but  concerning  God  also. 
He  himself  had  shared  in  the  outward  manifestations  of 
Divine  favor  which  appear  to  mark  the  Old  Dispensa- 
tion,— the  fire  on  Carmel,  the  storm  from  the  Mediter- 
ranean, the  avenmn^  sword  on  the  banks  of  the  Kishon. 
These  signs  had  failed ; and  he  was  now  told  that  in 
these  signs,  in  the  highest  sense,  God  Avas  not ; not  in 
these,  but  in  the  still  small  gentle  whisper  of  conscience 
and  solitude  was  the  surest  token  that  God  was  near  to 
him.  Nay,  not  in  his  own  mission,  grand  and  gigantic 
as  it  was,  would  after-ages  so  clearly  discern  the  Divine 
Inspiration,  as  in  the  still  small  voice  of  justice  and  truth 
that  breathed  through  the  writings  of  the  later  Proph- 
ets, for  whom  he  only  prepared  the  way,  — Hosea, 
Amos,  Micah,  Isaiah,  Jeremiah.  Not  in  the  vengeance 
wliich  through  Hazael  and  Jehu  was  to  sweep  away  the 
House  of  Omri,  so  much  as  in  the  discerning  Love  which 
was  to  spa  re  the  seven  thousand ; not  in  the  strong  east 
^ind  that  parted  the  Red  Sea,  or  the  fire  that  swept  the 
top  of  Sinai,  or  the  earthquake  that  shook  down  the 
walls  of  Jericho,  would  God  be  brought  so  near  to  man, 
as  in  the  still  small  voice  of  the  Child  at  Bethlehem,  as 
in  the  ministrations  of  Him  whose  cry  was  not  heard  in 
the  streets,  in  the  awful  stillness  of  the  Cross,  in  the 
never-failing  order  of  Providence,  in  the  silent  insensible 


344 


niE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.  — ELTJ/.H. 


Lect.  XXX 


iiirlnence  of  good  deeds  and  good  words,  of  God  and  of 
man.  Tliis  is  the  predictive  element  of  Elijah’s  prophe- 
cies. This  is  the  sign  that  the  liistory  of  the  Church 
had  made  a vast  stride  since  the  days  of  Moses.  Here 
we  see,  in  an  irresistible  form,  the  true  unity  of  the 
Bible.  The  Sacred  narrative  rises  above  itself  to  a 
world  hidden  as  yet  from  the  view  of  those  to  whom 
the  vision  was  revealed.  There  is  already  a Gospel  of 
Elijah.  He,  the  furthest  removed  of  all  the  Prophets 
from  the  Evangelical  spirit  and  character,  has  yet  en- 
shrined in  the  heart  of  his  story  the  most  forcible  of  all 
protests  against  the  hardness  of  Judaism,  the  noblest 
anticipation  of  the  breadth  and  depth  of  Christianity. 

From  this,  the  culminating  point  of  Elijah’s  life,  we  are 
carried  abruptly  to  the  renewal  of  his  personal  history 
and  his  relations  with  Ahab. 

It  is  characteristic  of  the  Sacred  History  that  the 
final  doom  of  the  dynasty  of  Omri  should  be  called 
forth,  not  by  its  idolatry,  not  by  its  persecution  of  the 
Prophets,  but  by  an  act  of  injustice  to  an  individual,  a 
private  citizen. 

On  the  eastern  slope‘^  of  the  hill  of  Jezreel,  immedi- 
ately outside  the  walls,  Avas  a smooth  plot  of  ground, 
which  Ahab,  in  his  desire  for  the  improvement  of  his 
favorite  residence,  wished  to  turn  into  a garden  ^ of 
Naboth’s  herbs  or  flowers.  But  it  belonged  to  Naboth, 
vineyard.  ^ JezrecHte  of  distinguished  birth, ^ who  sturdily 

refused,  perhaps  with  something  of  a religious  scruple, 
to  part  with  it  for  any  price  or  equivalent : Jehovah 

forbid  that  I should  give  to  thee  the  inheritance  of  my 

1 Its  situation  is  fixed  by  2 Kings  into  “ Israelite,”  “ palace  ” into  thresh 
)x.  30  - 36,  compared  with  1 Kings  “ ing-floor,”  and  omits  the  words  which 
xxi.  1,  19,  23.  The  LXX.  version  of  “was  in  Jezreel” 

1 Kings  xxi.  1 (in  both  Vat.  and  2 As  distinct  from  a of  trees. 

Alex.  MSS.)  changes  “ Jezreelite”  3 Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  13,  § 8. 


ImcT  XXX. 


NABOTH’S  VINEYARD. 


345 


‘^fathers.”  The  rights  of  an  Israelite  landowner  were 
not  to  be  despised.  The  land  had  descended  to  Naboth, 
possibly,  from  the  first  partition  of  the  tribes.  Omri, 
the  father  of  Ahab,  had  given  a great  price  for  the  hill 
of  Samaria  to  its  owner  Shemer.  David  would  not  take 
the  threshing-floor  on  Moriah,  even  from  the  heathen 
Araunah,  without  a payment.  The  refusal  brought  on 
a peculiar  mood  of  sadness,^  described  on  two  occasions 
in  Ahab  and  in  no  one  else.  But  in  his  palace  there 
was  one  who  cared' nothing  for  the  scruples  which  tor- 
mented the  conscience  even  of  the  worst  of  the  Kings 
of  Israel.  In  the  pride  of  her  conscious  superiority  to 
the  weaknesses  of  her  husband,  J ezebel  came  to  him 
and  said.  Dost  thou  now  govern  ^ the  kingdom  of  Is- 
^^rael?  Arise,  and  eat  bread,  and  let  thine  heart  be 
merry,  I will  give  thee  the  vineyard  of  Naboth  the 
Jezreelite.”  It  is  the  same  contrast  — true  to  nature 
— that  we  know  so  well  in  ^gisthiis  and  Clytemnestra, 
in  Macbeth  and  Lady  Macbeth,  where  the  feebler  reso- 
lution of  the  man  has  been  urged  to  the  last  crime  by 
the  bolder  and  more  relentless  spirit  of  the  woman. 
She  wrote  the  warrant  in  Ahab’s  name ; she  gave  the 
hint  to  the  chiefs  and  nobles  of  the  city.  An  assembly 
was  called,  at  the  head  ^ of  which  Naboth,  by  virtue  of 
his  high  position,  was  placed.  There,  against  him,  as  he 
BO  stood,  the  charge  of  treason  was  brou^^ht  accordino; 
to  the  forms  of  the  Jewish  law.  The  two  or  three  ^ 
necessary  witnesses  were  produced,  and  sate  before  him. 
The  sentence  was  pronounced.  The  whole  family  were 

1 “ Heavy  and  displeased,”  1 Kings  viii.  13,  § 8)  is  the  explanation  of 

*x.  43  ; xxi.  4.  Naboth  “ was  set  on  high.” 

2 ^aaiKia  (LXX.).  4 Dent.  xvii.  6;  xix.  15.  Josephus 

3 This  (according  to  Josephus,  says  there  were  three  witnesses ; the 

Hebrew  and  LXX.  two. 


346 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI. —ELIJAH. 


Lrct.  XXX 


involved  in  the  ruin.  Naboth  and  his  sons,  in  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night,^  were  dragged  out  from  the  city. 
According  to  one  biblical  account/  the  capital  was  the 
scene ; and  in  the  usual  place  of  execution  at  Samaria, 
by  the  side  of  the  great  tank  or  pool  (here  as  at  He- 
bron ^),  Nalioth  and  his  sons  were  stoned ; and  the  blood 
from  their  mangled  remains  ran  down  into  the  reservoir, 
and  was  licked  up  on  the  liroad  margin  of  stone  by  the 
ravenous  dogs  which  infest  an  Eastern  capital,  and  by 
the  herds  of  swine ^ which  were  not  allowed  to  enter  the 
Jewish  city.  “Then  they  sent  to  Jezebel  saying,  Naboth 
“ is  stoned  and  is  dead.”  And  she  repeated  to  Ahab  all 
that  he  cared  to  hear:  “Naboth  is  not  alive,  but  is 
“dead.”  The  narrative  wavers  in  its  account  of  his  re- 
ception of  the  tidings.  The  more  detailed  version  of 
the  Septuagint  tells  us  that,  immediately,  the  pang  of 
remorse  shot  through  his  heart.  “ When  he  heard  that 
“ Naboth  was  dead,  he  rent  his  clothes  and  put  on  sack- 
“ cloth.”  But  this  was  for  the  first  moment  only.  From 
the  capital  of  Samaria,  as  it  would  seem,  he  rose  up,  and 
went  down  the  steep  descent  which  leads  into  the  plain 
of  Jezreel.  He  went  in  state,  in  his  roj^al  chariot.  Be- 
hind him,  probably  in  the  same  chariot,^  were  two  of 
the  great  officers  of  his  court ; Bidkar,  and  one  whose 
name  afterwards  bore  a dreadful  sound  to  the  House  of 
Ahab,  — Jehu,  the  son  of  Jehoshaphat,  the  son  of 
Nimshi.  And  now  they  neared  the  city  of  Jezreel;  and 

1 This  is  to  be  inferred  from  the  Jezreel  that  the  trial  took  place,  and 

word  emesh,  “ yesternight,”  used  in  2 the  execution  was  by  the  spring  of 
Kings  ix.  26.  See  Diet,  of  the  Bible.,  Jezreel.  See  Lectures  XV.  and 
L 529,  note.  XXL 

2 1 Kings  xxi.  19.  (LXX.)  ® So  Josephus,  Ant.  ix.  6,  § 3, 

3 2 Sam.  iv.  12.  Ka^^e^ofiivog  ; 2 lungs  ix.  25,  tsemadim 

4 1 Kings  xxii.  38  (LXX.),  com-  (as  a “ yoke  ” of  animals).  The 
pared  with  xxi.  19.  According  to  LXX.  makes  them  in  separate  char- 
Josephus,  it  was  in  his  own  city  of  iots,  £7ri  ru  ^evyij. 


UcT.  XXX. 


THE  CURSE  ON  AHAB. 


347 


now  the  green  terraces  appeared,  which  Ahab  at  last 
might  call  his  own,  with  no  obstinate  owner  to  urge 
against  him  the  claims  of  law  and  of  property;  and 
there  was  the  fatal  vineyard,  the  vacant  plot  of  ground 
waiting  for  its  new  possessor.  There  is  a soli- 
tary  figure  standing  on  the  deserted  ground,  as 
though,  the  dead  Naboth  had  risen  from  his  bloody  grave 
to  warn  off  the  King  from  his  unlawful  gains.  It  is 
Elijah.  As  in  the  most  pathetic  of  Grecian  dramas,  the 
unjust  sentence  has  no  sooner  been  pronounced  on  the 
unfortunate  Antigone,  than  Tiresias  rises  up  to  pro- 
nounce the  curse  on  the  Theban  king,  so,  in  this  grander 
than  any  Grecian  tragedy,  the  well-known  Prophet  is 
there  to  utter  the  doom  of  the  House  of  Ahab.  He 
comes,  we  know  not  whence.  He  has  arisen ; he  has 
come  down  at  the  word  of  the  Lord  to  meet  the  King, 
as  once  before,  in  this  second  crisis  of  his  fife.  Few  and 
short  were  the  words  which  fell  from  those  awful  lips ; 
and  they  are  variously  reported.  But  they  must  have 
fallen  like  thunderbolts  on  that  royal  company.  They 
were  never  forgotten.  Years  afterwards,  long  after 
Ahab  and  Elijah  had  gone  to  their  account,  two  of  that 
same  group  found  themselves  once  again  on  that  same 
spot ; and  a king,  the  son  of  Ahab,  lay  dead  at  their 
feet ; and  Jehu  turned  to  Bidkar  and  said,  Bemember 
how  that  thou  and  I rode  behind  Ahab  his  father, 
when  the  Lord  laid  this  burden  upon  him.  Surely 
“ yesternight  I saw  the  blood  of  Naboth  and  the  blood 
^^of  his  sons,  saith  Jehovah,  and  I will  requite  thee  in 
this  plat,  saith  Jehovah.”  ^ And  not  only  on  that  plat, 
but  wherever  the  House  of  Ahab  should  be  found,  and 
wherever^  the  blood  of  Naboth  had  left  its  traces,  the 
decree  of  vengeance  was  pronounced ; the  horizon  was 

i 2 Kings  ix.  26.  3 i Kings  xxi.  19  (LXX.). 


348 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRT.  — ELIJAH. 


Lect.  XXX. 


darkened  with  the  visions  of  vultures  glutting  on  the 
carcasses  of  the  dead,  and  the  packs  of  savage  dogs  feed- 
ing on  their  remains,  or  lapping  up  their  blood.  — All 
these  threats  the  youthful  soldier  heard,  unconscious 
that  he.  was  to  be  their  terrible  executioner.  But  it  was 
on  Ahab  liiinself  that  the  curse  fell  with  the  heaviest 
weight.  He  burst  at  once  into  the  familiar  cry,  Hast 

thou  found  me,  0 mine  enemy  ? ” The  Prophet  and 
the  King  parted,  to  meet  no  more.  But  the  King’s  last 
act  was  an  act  of  penitence  ; on  every  anniversary  ^ of 
Naboth’s  death  he  wore  the  Eastern  signs  of  mourning 
And  the  Prophet’s  words  were  words  of  mercy.  It  was 
as  if  the  revelation  of  the  still  small  voice  ” was  be- 
coming clearer  and  clearer.  For  in  the  heart  of  Ahah 
there  was  a sense  of  better  things,  and  that  sense  is  re- 
cognized and  blessed. 

It  was  three  years  afterwards  that  the  first  part  of 
Elijah’s  curse,  in  its  modified  form,  fell  on  the  royal 
house.  The  scene  is  given  at  length,  apparently  to 
bring  before  us  the  gradual  working-out  of  the  catas- 
trophe. The  Syrian  war,  which  forms  the  background 
of  the  whole  of  the  history  of  Omn’s  dynasty,  fur 
The  attack  nislies  the  occasion.  To  recover  the  fortress 
Gilead.  of  Ramoth-Gilead  is  the  object  of  the  bah 

tie.  The  Kings  of  Judah  and  Israel  are  united  for 
the  grand  effort.  The  alliance  is  confirmed  by  the 
marriage  of  Athaliah,  the  daughter  of  Ahab,  with 
Jehoram  the  son  of  Jehoshaphat.^  The  names  of  the 
two  royal  families  are  intermixed  for  the  first  time 
since  the  separation  of  the  kingdoms.  Jehoshaphat 
comes  down  in  state  to  Samaria.  A grand  sacrificial 

1 1 Kings  xxi.  27  (LXX.).  “ Went  ^ 2 Kings  viii.  18,  26. 
fcoftly,”  is  probably  “went  barefoot” 

(Josephus). 


L*ct.  XXX. 


THE  DEATH  OF  AHAB. 


34^ 


feast  for  him  and  his  suite  ^ is  prepared.  ITie  two 
kings,  an  unprecedented  sight,  sit  side  by  side,  each  on 
his  throne,  in  full  pomp,^  in  the  wide  open  space  before 
the  gateway  of  Samaria.  Once  again,  though  in  a less 
striking  form,  is  repeated  the  conflict  between  the  true 
and  false  prophesyings,  as  at  Carmel.  Four  hundred 
prophets  of  Baal,  yet  evidently  professing  the  worship 
of  Jehovah,  and  Israelites,^  not  foreigners  — all,  in  one 
mystic  chorus,  urged  the  war.  One  only  exception 
was  heard  to  the  general  acclamation ; not  Elijah,  but 
one  who,  according  to  Jewish^  tradition,  had  once 
before  foretold  the  fall  of  Ahab,  — Micaiah,  The  vision 
the  son  of  Imlah.  In  the  vision  which  he 
describes,  we  feel  that  we  are  gradually  drawing  nearer 
to  the  times  of  the  later  Prophets.  It  is  a vision  which 
might  rank  amongst  those  of  Isaiah,  or  of  Ezekiel. 
On  earth,  the  Prophet  sees  the  tribes  of  Israel,  scattered 
on  the  hills  of  Gilead,  like  sheep  who  have  lost  their 
shepherd ; and  he  hears  a voice  bidding  them  return 
each  to  their  own  homes,  as  best  they  can ; for  their 
human  leader  is  gone  — they  have  no  help  but  in  God.® 
Above,  he  sees  the  God  of  Israel  on  His  throne,  as  the 
kings  on  their  thrones  before  the  gate  of  Samaria.  His 
host,  as  theirs,  is  all  around  Him.  There  is  a glimpse 
into  the  truth,  so  difficult  of  conception  in  early  ages, 
that  even  the  Almighty  works  by  secondary  agents. 
Not  by  Himself,  but  by  one  or  other  of  His  innumer- 
able host  ; not  by  these  indiscriminately,  but  by  one, 
to  whom  is  given  the  name  of The  Spirit.”®  Not  by 

1 2 Chr.  xviii.  2.  prophets  of  Ashtaroth  (“  the  groves  ”) 

2 1 Kings  xxll.  10;  2 Chr.  xviii.  9 who  escaped  destruction  at  Carmel. 

(IjXX.  and  Ewald).  Compare  1 Kings  xviii.  19  with  22. 

3 See  the  name  Zedekiah,  “justice  4 i Kings  xx.  35,  with  the  coim 
of  Jehovah  ” (ver.  11),  and  the  con-  ment  of  Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  14,  § 5. 
slant  mention  of  the  name  of  Jeho-  5 1 Kingg  xxii.  17  (LXX.). 

rah  (5,  6,  11,  12).  Possibly  the  400  ® 2 Chr.  xviii.  20  (Heb.). 


350 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRT.  — ELIJAH. 


Lect.  XXX 


any  sudden  stroke  of  vengeance,  but  by  the  very  net- 
work of  evil  counsel  which  he  has  Avoven  for  himself, 
is  the  King  of  Israel  to  be  led  to  his  ruin.  The 
imagery  of  the  vision  of  Micaiah  is  the  first  germ  of 
the  Prologue  of  Job,  and  conveys  the  same  exalted 
glance  into  the  unseen  guidance  of  good  and  evil,  by 
the  same  overruling  Hand.  In  contrast  Avith  this  one 
sublime  Prophet  is  the  vulgar  adA^ocate  of  the- popular 
vieAV  of  the  moment,  Zedekiah  the  son  of  Chenaanah. 
He  also  is  the  first  of  a type  that  A\^e  meet  frequently 
afterAvards,  — one  filled  AAuth  the  spirit  of  false  proph- 
ecy, not  from  any  false  doctrine,  but  from  narroAV  or 
interested  motives,  leaning  on  the  feeblest  auguries, 
the  most  accidental  tokens.  According  to  Josephusd 
he  relied  on  Elijah’s  prediction  that  Ahab’s  blood  should 
be  shed  on  the  spot  Avhich  had  receiA^ed  the  blood 
of  Naboth,  and  that  therefore  he  could  not  fall  in 
battle.  His  imagery,  too,  AA^as  like  that  AA^hich  prevailed 
among  the  later  Prophets,  — a parable,  not  of  AA^ords, 
but  of  action.  He  took  horns  of  iron,  with  Avhich,  as 
Avith  the  horns  of  the  Avild  bull  of  Ephraim,^  he  Avould 
push  the  enemies  of  Ephraim  to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 
He  struck  Micaiah  on  the  face,  Avith  the  challenge,^ 
according  to  JeAvish  tradition,  to  AAuther  his  hand,  as 
that  of  Jeroboam  had  Avithered  at  the  command  of 
Iddo. 

In  the  battle  that  folloAvs  under  the  Avails  of  Eamoth- 
The  death  Grilead,^  everything  centres  on  this  foredoomed 
ofAhab.  destruction  of  Ahab.  All  his  precautions  are 
baffled.  Early  in  the  day,  an  arroAv,  Avhich  later  tradi- 
tion ascribed  to  the  hand  of  Naaman,  pierced  the  King’s 

4 This  is  implied  in  1 Kings  xxii. 
20,  29,  but  is  stated  distinctly  »n 
Josephus,  Ant.  viii.  15,  § 6. 


1 Ant.  viii.  15,  § 4. 

2 Deut.  xxxiii.  17. 

^ Joseph.  Ant.  viii.  15,  § 5. 


Lect.  XXX. 


THE  DEATH  OF  AHAB. 


351 


breastplate.  He  felt  liis  death-wound ; but,  with  a 
nobler  spirit  than  had  appeared  in  his  life,  he  would 
not  have  it  disclosed,  lest  the  army  should  be  dis- 
couraged. The  tide  of  battle  rose  higher^  and  higher 
till  nightfall.  The  Syrian  army  retired  to  the  fortress.^ 
Then,  and  not  till  then,  as  the  sun  went  down,  did 
the  herald  of  the  army  proclaim:  Every  man  to  his 

city,  and  every  man  to  his  country,  for  the  King  is 
deadr^ 

The  long-expected  event  had  indeed  arrived.  The 
King,  who  had  stood  erect ^ in  the  chariot  till  that 
moment,  sank  down  dead.  His  body  was  carried  home 
to  the  royal  burial-place  in  Samaria.  But  the  mannei 

of  his  end  left  its  traces  in  a form  not  to  be  mistaken. 

* 

The  blood  which  all  through  that  day  had  been  flowing 
fiom  his  wound,  had  covered  both  the  armor  in  which 
he  was  dressed  and  the  chariot  in  which  he  had  stood 
for  so  many  hours.  The  chariot  (perhaps  the  armor) 
was  washed  in  state  — according  to  one  version  ® in  the 
tank  of  Samaria,  according  to  another®  in  the  spring 
of  Jezreel.  The  bystanders  remembered  that  the 
blood,  shed  as  it  had  been  on  the  distant  battle-field, 
streamed  into  the  same  waters  which  had  been  polluted 
by  the  blood  of  Naboth  and  his  sons,  and  was  lapped 
up  from  the  margin  by  the  same  dogs  and  swine,  still 
prowling  round  the  spot;  and  that  when  the  aban- 
doned outcasts^  of  the  city  — probably  those  who  had 
assisted  in  the  profligate  rites  of  the  Temple  of  Ash- 
taroth  — came,  according  to  their  shameless  usage,  for 

1 1 Kings  xxii.  35  (Heb.).  6 Joseph.  Ant.  viii.  15,  § 6. 

2 Joseph.  Ant.  viii.  15,  § 6.  7 i Kings  xxii.  38  (Heb.  and 

3 1 Kings  xxii.  36  (LXX.).  LXX.).  Joseph.  Ant.  viii.  15,  § 6, 

4 Ibid.  35  (LXX.).  “ The  liarlots  washed  themselves  ” (or 

5 1 Kings  xxii.  38  (Heb.  and  washed  the  chanot),  for  “ they  washed 

LXX.).  the  armor.*’  See  Keil  and  Thenius, 


352 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OllMI— ELIJAH. 


Lect  XXX 


their  morning^  bath  in  the  pool,  they  found  it  red  with 
the  blood  of  the  first  apostate  King  of  Israel. 

So  ^vere  accomplished  the  warnings  of  Elijah  and 
Micaiah.  So  ended  what  may  be  called  the  first  part 
of  the  tragedy  of  the  House  of  Omri. 

I Trrd  T^v  tu.  Procopius,  ad  loe. 


LECTURE  XXXL 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRL ELISHA. 

With  the  fall  of  Ahab  a series  of  new  characters 
appear  on  the  eventful  scene.  Elijah  still  remained 
for  a time,  but  only  to  make  way  for  successors.  In 
the  meeting  of  the  four  hundred  Prophets  at  Samaria, 
he  was  not  present.  In  the  reign  of  Ahaziah  and  of 
Jehoram,  he  appears  but  for  a moment.  There  was  a 
letter,  the  only  written  prophecy  ascribed  to  him,  and 
the  only  link  which  connected  him  with  the  history 
of  Judah,  addressed  to  the  young  Prince  who  reigned 
with  his  father  Jehoshaphat^  at  Jerusalem,  j^astap- 
There  was  a sudden  apparition  of  a strange 
being,  on  the  heights  of  Carmel,  to  the  mes- 
sengers  whom  Ahaziah  had  sent  to  consult  an  oracle 
in  Philistia.^  They  were  passing,  probably,  along  the 
haunted  strand,”  between  the  sea  and  the  mountain. 
They  heard  the  warning  voice.  They  returned  to  their 
master.  Their  description  could  apply  only  to  one 
man ; it  must  be  the  wild  Prophet  of  the  desert  whom 
he  had  heard  described  by  his  father  and  grandfither. 
Troop  after  troop  was  sent  to  arrest  the  enemy  of  the 
royal  house,  to  seize  the  lion  in  his  den.  On  the  top 
of  Carmel  they  saw  the  solitary  form.  But  he  was 
not  to  be  taken  by  human  force ; stroke  after  stroke 

1 This  is  a possible  explanation  12-15.  Comp.  2 Kings  i.  17;  viii. 
ol  the  letter  to  Jehoram,  2 Chr.  xxi.  16. 

2 2 Kings  i.  3-17. 


▼OL.  II. 


3o4 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI  ^ ELISHA. 


Lect.  XXXI. 


of  celestial  fire  was  to  destroy  the  armed  bands.  They 
retired,  and  he  disappeared.  It  was  to  this  act,  some 
centuries  afterwards,  not  far  from  the  same  spot,  that 
the  two  ardent  youths  appealed,  and  provoked  that 
Divine  rebuke  which  places  the  whole  career  of  Elijah 
in  its  fitting  placed  as  something  in  its  own  nature 
transitory,  precursive,  preparatory. 

Another  was  now^  to  take  his  place.  The  time  was 
Theascen-  coiue  wlieii  tlie  Loi'd  would  take  Elijah  into 
jah.  ^’heaven  by  a tempest.”  Those  long  wander- 
ings were  now  over.  No  more  was  that  awful  figure 
to  be  seen  on  Carmel,  nor  that  stern  voice  heard  in 
Jezreel.  For  the  last  time  he  surveyed,  from  the 
heights  of  the  western  Gilgal,^  the  whole  scene  of  his 
former  career,  — the  Mediterranean  Sea,  Carmel,  and 
the  distant  hills  of  Gilead,  — and  went  the  round  of 
the  consecrated  haunts  of  Gilgal,  Bethel,  Jericho.^ 
One  faithful  disciple  was  with  him,  — the  son  of 
Shaphat,  whom  he  had  first  called  on  his  way  from 
Sinai  to  Damascus,  and  who,  after  the  manner  of  Eastr 
ern  attendants,  stood  by  him  to  pour  water  over  his 
hands  in  his  daily  ablutions.  With  that  tenderness 
which  is  sometimes  blended  with  the  most  rugged 
natures,  at  each  successive  halt  the  older  Prophet 
turned  to  his  youthful  companion,  and  entreated  him 
to  stay : “ Tarry  here,  I pray  thee ; for  the  Lord  hath 
^^sent  me  to  Bethel  . to  Jericho  ...  to  Jordan.” 
But  in  each  case  Elisha  replied  with  an  asseveration, 
that  expressed  his  undivided  and  unshaken  trust  in  his 
master  and  in  his  master’s  God : As  the  Lord  liveth, 

^^and  as  thy  soul  liveth,  I will  not  leave  thee.”  At 
Bethel,  and  at  Jericho,  the  students  in  the  schools  that 

1 See  Lecture  XXX.  nius  ad  loc.  and  Robinson,  Bib.  Rss.  ii. 

S Gilgal  here  is  possibly  the  mod-  265.) 
em  Jiljilia,  near  Seilun.  (See  The-  3 2 Kings  ii.  1- -5. 


Lect.  XXXI. 


TRANSLATION  OF  ELIJAH. 


355 


had  gathered  round  those  sacred  spots,  came  out  with 
the  sad  presentiment  that  for  the  last  time  they  were  to 
see  the  revered  instructor  who  had  given  new  life  to 
their  studies ; and  they  too  turned  to  their  fellow-dis- 
ciple: ^^Knowest  thou  not  that  the  Lord  will  take 
away  thy  master  from  thy  head  to-day?”  And  to 
every  such  remonstrance  he  replied  with  emphasis, 
‘•’  Yea,  I know  it;  hold  ye  your  peace.”  No  dread  of 
that  final  parting  could  deter  him  from  the  mournful 
joy  of  seeing  with  his  own  eyes  the  last  moments,  of 
hearing  wuth  his  own  ears  the  last  words,  of  the 
Prophet  of  God.  ^‘And  they  two  went  on.”  They 
went  on  alone.  They  descended  the  long  weary  slopes 
that  led  from  Jericho  to  the  Jordan.  On  the  upper 
terraces,  or  on  the  mountain-heights  behind  the  city, 
stood  afar  off,”  in  awe,  fifty  of  the  young  disciples ; 
‘‘  and  they  two  stood  by  Jordan.”  They  stood  by  its 
rushing  stream ; but  they  were  not  to  be  detained  by 
even  this  barrier.  The  ao;ed  Gileadite  cannot  rest  till 
^^he  again  sets  foot  on  his  own  side  of  the  river.”  He 
ungirds  the  rough  mantle  from  around  his  shaggy 
frame ; he  rolled  it  together,”  as  if  into  a wonder- 
working staff ; he  smote  ” the  turbid  river,  as  though 
it  were  a living  enemy ; and  the  waters  divided 
hither  and  thither,  and  they  two  went  over  on  dry 
ground.”  And  now  they  w'^ere  on  that  farther  shore, 
under  the  shade  of  those  hills  of  Pisgah  and  of  Gilead, 
where,  in  former  times,  a Prophet,  greater  even  than 
Elijah,  had  been  withdrawn  from  the  eyes  of  his  people 
— whence,  in  his  early  youth,  Elijah  had  himself 
descended  on  his  aimust  career.  He  knew  that  his 

O 

hour  was  come ; he  knew  that  he  had  at  last  returned 
home ; that  he  was  to  go  whither  Moses  had  gone 
before  him ; and  he  turned  to  Elisha  to  ask  for  his  last 


856 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMKI  — ELISHA. 


Lect.  XXXL 


wish.  One  only  gift  was  in  Elisha’s  mind  to  ask : I 

pray  thee,  let  a double  portion  — if  it  be  only  two 
morsels/  two  thirds  — of  thy  spirit  be  upon  me,  the 
“right  of  thy  first-born  son.” 

It  was  a hard  thing  that  he  had  asked.  But  it  was 
granted,  on  one  condition.  If  he  was  able  to  retain  to 
the  end  the  same  devoted  perseverance,  and  keep  his 
eye,  set  and  steadfast,  on  the  departing  Prophet,  the  gift 
would  be  his.  “And  as  they  still  went  on,”  — upwards, 
it  may  be,  towards  the  eastern  hills,  talking  as  they 
went,  — “behold,  there  appeared  a chariot  of  fire,  and 
“ horses  of  fire,  and  parted  them  both  asunder.”  This 
was  the  severance  of  the  two  friends. 

Then  came  a furious  stomi.  “ And  Elijah  went  up 
“ in  the  tempest  ^ into  heaven.”  In  this  inextricable  in- 
terweaving of  fact  and  figure,  it  is  enough  to  mark  how 
fitly  such  an  act  closes  such  a life.  “My  father,  my 
“ father,”  Ehsha  cried,  “ the  chariot  of  Israel,  and  the 
“ horsemen  thereof”  So  Elijah  had  stood  a sure  defence 
to  his  country  against  all  the  chariots  and  horsemen  that 
were  ever  pouring  in  upon  them  from  the  surrounding 
nations.  So  he  now  seemed,  when  he  passed  away,  lost 
in  the  flames  of  the  steeds  and  the  car  that  swept  him 
from  the  earth,  as  in  the  fire  of  his  own  unquenchable 
spirit  — in  the  fire  which  had  thrice  blazed  around  him 
in  his  passage  through  his  troubled  earthly  career.  Ac- 
cording to  the  Jewish  legends,  he  was  at  his  birth 
wrapped  in  swaddling-bands  of  fire,  and  fed  with  flames.^ 
During  the  whole  of  his  course,  “he  rose  up  as  a fire, 
“ and  his  word  blazed  as  a torch.”  ^ And  as  in  its  fiery 

1 This  (and  not  “double  thy  ^ 2 Kings  ii.  11  (Heb.,  LXX.) 
fpirit  ”)  seems  to  be  the  sense,  by  hv  avaaeia/iip  ug  eig  rbv  ovpavov. 
comparing  it  with  Deut.  xxi.  17;  see  ^ Legend  quoted  by  Krummacher 
Mr.  Grove  on  Elisha,  Diet,  of  Bible,  ^ Ecclus.  xlviii.  1. 
p.  535  note. 


Lsct.  XXXI. 


END  OF  ELIJAH. 


357 


force  and  energy,  so  in  its  mystery,  the  end  corresponded 
to  the  beginning.  He  had  appeared  in  the  histoiy,  we 
know  not  whence,  and  now  he  is  gone  in  like  manner. 
As  of  Moses,  so  of  Elijah,  — ^^no  man  knoweth  his  sep- 
^Milchre  ; no  man  knoweth  his  resting-place  until  this 

day.”  On  some  lonely  peak,  or  in  some  deep  ravine, 
the  sons  of  the  Prophets  vainly  hoped  to  find  him, 
cast  away  by  the  Breath  of  the  Lord,  as  in  former 
times.  ^^And  they  sought  him  three  days,  but  found 
“ him  not.”  He  was  gone,  no  more  to  be  seen  by  mortal 
eyes ; or,  if  ever  again,  only  in  far-distant  ages,  when 
his  earthly  likeness  should  once  again  appear^  in  that 
same  sacred  region,  or  when,  on  the  summit  of 
“high  mountain,  apart  by  themselves,”  three  disciples, 
like  Elisha,  should  be  gathered  round  a Master  whose 
departure  they  were  soon  expecting ; “ and  there  ap- 
“peared  unto  them  Moses  and  Elijah  talking  with 
“Him.”^  The  Ascension^  or  Assumption  of  Elijah 
stands  out,  alone  in  the  Jewish  history,  as  the  highest 
representation  of  the  end  of  a great  and  good  career ; 
of  death  as  seen  under  its  noblest  aspect,  — as  the 
completion  and  crown  of  the  life  which  had  preceded 
it,  as  the  mysterious  shrouding  of  the  departed  within 
the  invisible  world.  By  a sudden  stroke  of  storm  and 
whirlwind,  or,  as  we  may  almost  literally  say  of  the 
martyrs  of  old,  by  chariots  and  horses  of  fire,  the  ser- 
vants of  God  pass  away.  We  know  not  where  they 
rest ; we  may  search  high  and  low,  in  the  height  of  the 
highest  peak  of  our  speculations,  or  in  the  depth  of  the 
darkest  shadow  of  the  valley  of  death.  Legend  upon 
legend^  may  gather  round  them,  as  upon  Elijah;  but 

1 Matt.  iii.  4,  5;  xi.  14;  xvii.  11,  3 Its  traditional  day  is  July  20 

i8.  (see  the  Ada  Sandorum). 

* Ibid.  xvii.  3.  4 See  Lecture  XXX. 


358 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI. -- ELISHA. 


LEiTT.  XXXI 


the  Sacred  Record  itself  is  silent.  One  only  mode  or 
place  there  is  where  we  may  think  of  them,  as  of  Elijah, 
— in  those  who  come  afterwards  in  their  power  and 
spirit,  or  in  that  One  Presence  which  still  brings  ns  near 
to  them,  in  the  iNIoimt  of  the  Transfiguration,  in  com- 
miniion  with  the  Beloved  of  God. 

The  close  of  the  career  of  Elijah  is  the  beginning  of 
The  call  of  Career  of  Elisha.  It  had  been  when  he  was 
Ei>ha.  ploughing,  with  a vast  array  of  oxen  before 
him,  in  the  rich  pastures  of  the  Jordan  valley,  that 
Elijah  swept  past  him.  Without  a word,  he  had  stripped 
off  the  rough  mantle  of  his  office,  and  thrown  it  over 
the  head  of  the  wondering  youth.  Without  a moment’s 
delay  he  had  stalked  on,  as  if  he  had  done  nothing. 
But  Elisha  had  rushed  after  the  Prophet,  and  had  ob- 
tained the  playful  permission  to  return  for  a farewell 
to  his  father  and  mother,  in  a solemn  sacrificial  feast, 
and  had  then  followed  him  ever  since.  He  had  seen 
his  master  to  the  end.  He  had  uttered  ^ a loud  scream 
of  grief  as  he  saw  him  depart.  He  had  rent  asunder 
his  own  garments,  as  in  mourning  for  the  dead.  The 
mantle  which  fell  from  Elijah  was  now  his.  From  that 
act  and  those  words  has  been  drawn  the  figure  of  speech 
which  has  passed  into  a proverb  for  the  succession  of 
the  gifts  of  gifted  men.  It  is  one  of  the  representations 
by  which,  in  the  Roman  Catacombs,  the  early  Christians 
consoled  themselves  for  the  loss  of  their  departed 
friends.  With  the  mantle  he  descends  once  more  to 
the  Jordan-stream,  and  wields  it  in  his  hand.  The 
waters  (so  one  version  of  the  text  represents^  the  scene) 
for  a moment  hesitate : they  divided  not.”  He  invokes 

the  aid  of  Him,  to  whose  other  holy  names  he  adds 
the  new  epithet  of  The  God  of  Elijah  ; ” and  then  the 

1 2 Kings  ii.  12  (Heb.).  2 2 Kings  ii.  14  (LXX.). 


Ucr.  XXXI. 


CONTKAST  WITH  ELIJAH. 


359 


waters  ^^'part  hither  and  thither/’  and  he  passes  over 
and  is  in  his  own  native  region.  In  the  western  valley 
of  the  Jordan,  in  the  gardens  and  groves  of  Jericho,  now 
fresh  from  its  recent  restoration,  he  takes  up  his  abode, 
as  the  lord  ” of  his  new  disciples.  They  see  at  once 
that  the  spirit  of  Elijah  rests  upon  Elisha,”  and  they 

bow  themselves  to  the  ground  before  him.” 

A long  career  of  sixty  years  now  opens  before  us, 
which  serves  to  bring  out  the  general  features  ^ contrast 
of  his  relations  to  his  predecessor.  The  succes- 
sion  was  close  and  immediate,  but  it  was  a succession 
not  of  likeness  but  of  contrast.  The  whole  appearance 
of  Elisha  revealed  the  difference.  The  very  childrei 
laughed  when  they  saw  the  change,  and  watched  the 
smooth  well-shorn^  head  of  the  new  and  youthful  Prophet 
going  up  the  steep  ascent,  where  last  they  had  seen  the 
long  shaggy  locks  streaming  down  the  shoulders  of  the 
great  and  awful  Elijah.  The  rough  mantle  of  his  master 
appears  no  more  after  its  first  display.  He  uses  a walk 
ing-staff,  like  other  grave  citizens.^  He  was  not  secluded 
in  mountain-fastnesses,  but  dwelt  in  his  own  house  ^ in 
the  royal  city;  or  lingered  amidst  the  sons  of  the  Proph- 
ets, within  the  precincts  of  ancient  colleges,  embowered 
amidst  the  shade  of  the  beautiful  woods  which  overhang 
the  crystal  spring  that  is  still  associated  with  his  name ; 
or  was  sought  out  by  admiring  disciples  in  some  tower 
on  Carmel,  or  by  the  pass  of  Dotham  or  was  received 

1 Any  chronological  arrangement  2 Such  is  the  meaning  of  the  word 
of  Elisha’s  life  is  impossible.  In  the  in  2 Kings  ii.  23-25. 
accouiit  of  his  miracles,  it  is  usually  3 2 Kings  iv.  29  ; comp.  Zech. 
'‘the  King  of  Israel”  that  is  men-  vlii.  4. 

rioned  without  names.  In  two  in-  4 2 Kings  v.  9,  24  ; vl.  32:  xiu.  17. 
stances  at  least  (2  Kings  viil.  1-6  and  ^ The  Ain  es-Sultdn,  near  J'richo, 
Kiii.  14-21,  which  respectively  pre-  often  called  Elisha’s  Spring  ’'ings 
«ede  2 Kings  v.  27  and  xiii.  13),  there  ii.  18-22  ; vi.  1. 
oas  been  a complete  dislocation  of  ® 2 Kings  iv.  25 ; ri.  14 
the  narrative. 


360 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRL  — ELISHA. 


Lect.  X\'XI 


in  some  quiet  balcony,  overlooking  the  plain  of  Esclrae 
Ion,  vliere  bed  and  talde  and  seat  had  been  prepared 
for  him  by  pious  hands.’  Ills  life  was  not  spent,  like 
his  predecessor’s,  in  unavailing  struggles,  but  in  wide- 
spread successes.  lie  was  sought  out  not  as  the  enemy 
but  as  the  friend  and  counsellor  of  kinoes.  One  kiiiii^ 
was  crowned  at  his  bidding,  and  wrought  all  hu  will. 
Another  consulted  him  in  war,  another,  on  the  treat- 
ment of  his  prisoners,  another,  in  the  extremity  of  ill- 
ness, another,  to  receive  his  parting  counsels.^  My 
father,”  was  their  reverent  address  to  him.'^  Even  in 
far  Damascus,  as  we  shall  see,  his  face  was  known. 
Benhadad  treats  him  with  hlial  respect ; Hazael  trembled 
before  him  ; Naaman  hung  on  his  words  as  upon  an 
oracle.^  If  for  a moment  he  shows  that  the  remem- 
brance of  the  murder  of  Naboth  and  the  prophets  of 
Ahalj  and  Jezebel  is  burnt  into  his  soul,®  yet  he  never 
actively  interposes  to  protest  against  the  idolatry  or  the 
tyrannj^  of  the  Court.  Even  in  the  revolution  of  Jehu 
he  takes  no  direct  part.  Against  the  continuance  of 
the  worship  of  Baal  and  Ashtaroth,  or  the  revival  of  the 
Golden  Calves,  there  is  no  recorded  word  of  protest. 
There  is  no  express  teaching  handed  down.  Even  in 
his  oracular  answers  there  is  something  uncertain  and 
hesitating.  He  needs  the  minstrel’s  harp  to  call  forth 
his  peculiar  powers,^  as  though  he  had  not  them  com- 
pletely within  his  own  control.  His  deeds  were  not  of 
wild  terror,  but  of  gracious,  soothing,  homely  benefi- 
cence, bound  up  with  the  ordinary  tenor  of  human  life. 
When  he  smites  with  blindness,  it  is  that  he  may  re® 

1 2 Kings  iv.  8,  10.  '*2  Kings  vi.  21 ; xiii.  14. 

2 Jehu.  2 Kings  ix.  1,  2,  6-10.  ® Ibid.  viii.  7,  8,  11-13  ; v.  18 

3 Ibid.  iii.  11-19;  vi.  21;  viii.  8;  ® Ibid.  iii.  13. 

Kiii.  14-19.  7 Ibid.  iii.  15. 


Lict.  XXXI. 


CONTRAST  WITH  ELIJAH. 


361 


move  it  again  ; when  he  predicts,  it  is  the  prediction  of 
plenty,  and  not  of  famined  The  leprosy  of  Gehazi  is  but 
as  the  condition  of  the  deliverance  of  Naaman.  One 
only  trait,  and  that  on  the  very  threshold  of  his  career, 
belongs  entirely  to  that  fierce  spirit  of  Elijah  which 
called  down  Our  Lord’s  rebuke,  — when  he  cursed  the 
children  of  Bethel  for  their  mockery.^  The  act  itself, 
and  its  dreadful  sequel,  are  as  exceptional  in  the  Hfe  of 
Elisha  as  they  are  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel.^ 
At  his  house  by  Jericho  the  bitter  spring  is  sweetened ; 
for  the  widow  of  one  of  the  prophets  (traditionally  of 
Elijah’s  friend)  ^ the  oil  is  increased  ; even  the  workmen 
at  the  prophets’  huts  are  not  to  lose  the  axe-head  which 
has  fallen  through  the  thickets  of  the  Jordan  into  the 
eddying  stream ; ^ the  young  prophets,  at  their  common 
meal,  are  saved  from  the  deadly  herbs  which  had  been 
poured  from  the  blanket  of  one  of  them  into  the  cal- 
dron; and  enjoy  the  multiplied  provision  of  corn.^  At 
his  home  in  Carmel  he  is  the  oracle  and  support  of 
the  neighborhood ; and  the  child  of  his  benefactress  is 
raised  to  hfe,  with  an  intense  energy  of  sympathy  that 
gives  to  the  whole  scene  a grace  as  of  the  tender 
domestic  life  of  modern  times/  And  when,  at  last,  his 
end  comes,  in  a great  old  age,  he  is  not  rapt  away  like 
Elijah,  but  buried  with  a splendid  fmieral  a smnptuous 
tomb  was  shown  in  after  ages  over  his  grave,  in  the 
royal  city  of  Samaria ; and  fimeral  dances  were  cele- 

1 2 Kings  vi.  18-20 ; vii.  1.  tlie  widow  of  Obadiah  (see  Targum 

2 Ibid.  ii.  23,  24.  on  the  passage,  and  Josephus,  Ant, 

3 See  the  contrast  drawn  between  ix.  4,  § 2). 

the  cruelty  of  Elisha  and  the  mercy  ^ 2 Kin<js  vi.  5-7. 
of  St.  James  of  Nisibis  in  Theodoret  6 Ibid.  iv.  38-44. 

{Philodie^is,  iii.  1111).  7 27-37. 

* The  Jewish  tradition  identifies  8 Juseplms,  Ant.  ix.  8,  § (>. 
the  woman  of  1 Kings  iv.  1-7  with 


362 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.  - ELISHA. 


Lect.  XXXI 


bra  ted  round  his  honored  resting-|>lace.^  Alone  of  all 
the  graves  of  the  saints  of  the  Old  Testament,  there 
were  wonders  wrought  at  it,  which  seemed  to  continue 
after  death  the  grace  of  his  long  and  gentle  life.  It 
was  believed  that  by  the  mere  touch  of  liis  bones  a 
dead  corpse  was  reanimated.^  In  this,  as  in  so  much 
beside,  iiis  life  and  miracles  are  not  Jewish  but  Chris- 
tian. Ilis  works  stand  alone  in  the  Bible  in  their  like- 
ness to  the  acts  of  mediaeval  saints.  There  alone  in  the 
Sacred  History  the  gulf  between  Biblical  and  Ecclesias- 
tical miracles  almost  disappears.^  The  exception  proves 
the  general  ride  ; still  it  is  but  just  to  notice  the  ex- 
ception. 

Such  was  Elisha,  greater  yet  less,  less  yet  greater, 
than  Elijah.  He  is  less.  For  character  is  the  real 
Prophetic  gift.  The  man,  the  will,  the  personal  grandeur 
of  the  Prophet  are  greater  than  any  amount  of  Pro- 
phetic acts,  or  any  extent  of  Prophetic  success.  We 
cannot  dispense  with  the  mighty  past,  even  when  we 
have  shot  far  beyond  it.  Nations,  churches,  individuals, 
must  all  be  content  to  feel  as  dwarfs  in  comparison  Avith 
the  giants  of  old  time,  — with  the  Keformers,  the  Mar- 
tyrs, the  Heroes  of  their  early  youthful  reverence. 
Those  who  follow  cannot  be  as  those  who  went  before. 
A Prophet  like  Elijah  comes  once,  and  does  not  return. 
Elislia,  both  to  his  countrymen  and  to  us,  is  but  the  suc- 
cessor, the  faint  reflection  of  his  predecessor.  When  he 
appeared  before  the  three  suppliant  kings,  his  chief 
honor  was  that  he  was  Elisha  the  son  of  Shaphat,  who 
^ poured  water  on  the  hands  of  Elijah.”  ^ 

Less,  yet  greater.  For  the  work  of  the  great  ones  of 

1 Jerome,  Comm,  on  Obad.  i.  1 ; Benedict  and  St.  Bernard,  which  are 

Epitaph.  Paulce,  § 13.  the  same  in  character,  only  far  mcH:4 

2 2 Kings  xiii.  21.  numerous. 

3 Compare  especial^  those  of  St.  *2  Kings  iii.  1 1. 


Lict.  XXXI. 


CONTRAST  WITH  ELIJAH. 


363 


this  earth  is  carried  on  by  far  inferior  instruments  but 
on  a far  wider  scale,  and,  it  may  be,  in  a far  higher 
spirit.  The  life  of  an  Elijah  is  never  spent  in  vain. 
Even  his  death  has  not  taken  him  from  us.  He  strug- 
gles, single-handed  as  it  would  seem,  and  without  effect; 
and  in  the  very  crisis  of  the  nation’s  history  is  suddenly 
and  mysteriously  removed.  But  his  work  continues ; 
his  mantle  falls ; his  teaching  spreads ; his  enemies 
perish.  The  Prophet  preaches  and  teaches,  the  martyr 
dies  and  passes  away ; but  other  men  enter  into  his 
labors.  By  that  one  impulse  of  Elijah,  Elisha  and 
Elisha’s  successors.  Prophets  and  sons  of  Pro]3hets,  are 
raised  up  by  fifties  and  by  hundreds.  They  must  work 
in  their  own  way.  They  must  not  try  to  retain  the 
spirit  of  Elijah  by  repeating  his  words,  or  by  cloth- 
ing themselves  in  his  rough  mantle,  or  by  living  his 
strange  life.  What  was  begun  in  fire  and  storm,  in 
solitude  and  awful  visions,  must  be  carried  on  through 
winning  arts,  and  healing  acts,  and  gentle  words  of 
peaceful  and  social  intercourse;  not  in  the  desert  of 
Horeb,  or  on  the  top  of  Carmel,  but  in  the  crowded 
thoroughfares  of  Samaria,  in  the  gardens  of  Damascus, 
by  the  rushing  waters  of  Jordan.  Elisha  himself  may 
be  as  nothing  compared  with  Elijah ; his  wonders  may 
be  forgotten.  He  dies  by  the  long  decay  of  years  ; no 
chariots  of  fire  are  there  to  lighten  his  last  moments,  or 
bear  away  his  soul  to  heaven.  Yet  he  knows  that, 
though  unseen,  they  are  always  around  him.  Once  in 
the  city  of  Dothan,  in  the  ancient  pass,  where  the  cara- 
vans of  the  Midianites  and  the  troops  of  the  Syrians 
stream  through  into  Central  Palestine,  — when  he  is 
compassed  about  with  the  chariots  and  horses  of  the 
hostile  armies,  and  his  servant  cries  out  for  fear,  Elisha 
»»aid,  Fear  not : for  they  that  be  with  us  are  more  than 


364 


TIIE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.  — ELISHA. 


Lect.  XX  . I 


^ they  that  be  with  them.  . . . And,  behold,  the  moun- 
tain  was  full  of  horses  and  chariots  of  fire  round  about 
“ Elisha.”  ^ It  is  a vision  of  which  the  meaning  acquires 
double  force  from  its  connection  with  the  actual  history; 
as  if  to  show,  by  the  very  same  figure,  that  the  hope 
which  bore  Elijah  to  his  triumphal  end  was  equally  pres- 
ent with  Elisha.  Elijah,  and  those  who  are  like  Elijah, 
are  needed,  in  critical  and  momentous  occasions,  to 
prepare  the  way  for  the  Lord.”  His  likeness  is  John 
the  Baptist ; and  of  those  that  were  born  of  women  be- 
fore the  times  of  Christendom  none  were  greater  than 
they.”  But  Elisha,  and  those  who  are  like  Elisha,  have 
a humbler,  and  yet  a wider,  and  therefore  a holier 
sphere;  for  their  works  are  not  the  works  of  the  Baptist, 
but  are  the  deeds,  if  not  of  Christ  Himself,  at  any  rate 
of  “ the  least  in  His  kingdom,”  — the  gentle,  beneficentj 
^ holy  man  of  God,  who  passeth  by  us  continually.”  ^ 

1 2 Kings  vi.  16,  17.  * 2 Kings  iv.  9 


LECTURE  XXXn. 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRL  — JEHU. 

As  Elisha  had  succeeded  Elijah,  so  it  would  seem  OB 
if  Gehazi  was  to  have  succeeded  Elisha.  He 

0’6ll£izi* 

was  ^Hhe  servant  of  the  man  of  God.”  ^ He 
bore  the  wonder-working  staff  He  stood  before  ” his 
master  as  a slave.^  He  introduced  strangers  to  the 
Prophet’s  presence.®  He  was  the  dear  heart  ” of  the 
Prophet’s  affection.*^  But,  as  has  so  often  happened  in 
like  successions  of  the  Christian  Church,  in  the  succes- 
sors of  St.  Francis,  of  Ignatius  Loyola,  and  of  John 
Wesley,  the  original  piety  and  vigor  have  failed  in  the 
next  generation.  There  was  a coarse  grain  in  the  ser 
vant  which  parted  him  entirely  from  his  master.  He 
and  his  children  were  known,  in  after-times,  only  as  the 
founders  of  a race  of  lepers,  bearing  on  their  foreheads 
the  marks  of  an  accursed  ancestry.® 

There  was  another  successor,  not  less  unequal  and 
unlike,  already  designated  by  Elijah  himself  Thecaiiof 
With  Elisha  and  Hazael,  in  the  vision  at  Horeb, 
had  been  named  Jehu,  the  son  or  grandson  of  Nimshi.® 
Years  had  rolled  away  since  his  meeting  with  Elijah  in 
the  vineyard  of  Naboth.  He  was  now  high  in  the 
favor  of  Ahab’s  son,  as  captain  of  the  host  in  the 
Syrian  war.  In  that  war  of  chariots  and  horses,  he  had 

1 2 Kings  iv.  12,  29.  The  word  is  * See  Ewald  on  2 Kings  v.  26. 
na’ar,  “ attendant,”  not “slave.”  5 Comp.  2 Kings  v.  27. 

2 Ibid.  V.  25.  6 1 Kings  xix.  16.  His  full  ped 

S Ibid.  iv.  12,  15.  igree  is  given  in  2 Kings  ix.  2. 


366 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI— JEHU. 


Lect.  XXX II 


acquired  an  art  little  practised  by  the  infantry  of  the 
ancient  Israelites.  lie  was  known  through  the  whole 
army  and  country  for  driving  his  horses^  like  one  out  of 
his  mind.^ 

The  army  which  he  commanded  was  at  Ramoth- 
Gilead.  That  was  still  the  point  round  which  the 
interest  of  the  Syrian  war  revolved.  The  King  him- 
self had  been  present  at  the  siege,  had  been  in  personal 
danger,  and  had  returned  home  to  Jezreel  to  be  cured 
of  his  wounds^  from  the  arrows  of  the  Syrian  archers. 
It  was  in  his  absence  that  a young  man  — said  by 
tradition^  to  be  the  future  prophet  Jonah,  son  of  the 
widow  of  Zarephath  — arrived  at  the  camp,  with  a 
small  flask ^ in  his  hand.  His  garments  were  girt  round 
him  as  of  one  travelling  in  haste,  and  his  appearance 
was  wild  and  excited,  as  of  a madman.  From  the 
midst  of  the  captains  he  singled  out  Jehu.  The  soldier 
and  the  youth  withdrew  into  the  house,  in  front  of 
which  they  were  sitting.  Through  the  house  they  went 
from  chamber  to  chamber,  till  they  reached  the  most 
secret  recess.^  The  officers  remained  outside  in  anxious 
expectation.  Presently  the  door  of  the  house  opened, 
and  the  youth  rushed  out  and  disappeared  as  suddenly 
as  he  had  appeared.  Then  Jehu  himself  came  forth. 
He  put  off  their  eager  inquiry  for  a moment.  Ye 

know  the  man  and  his  meditations  ; ” as  much  as  to 

1 The  same  word  as  in  2 Kings  ix.  4 2 Kings  ix.  1,  3.  Only  used  here 

11.  So  LXX.,  'Kapak'Kayij.  But  the  and  in  1 Sam.  x.  I ; in  each  case  the 
Targum  and  Josephus,  Ant.  ix.  6,  § 3,  Hebrew  definite  article  is  used  — “ the 
“ slowly.”  oil,”  namely,  the  sacred  oil.  So  Jo- 

2 2 Kings  ix.  14,  15  ; 2 Chr.  xxii.  seph.  Ant.  ix.  6,  § 1. 

5,  6.  For  the  archers  see  LXX.  of  ^ Kheder  is  always  “ the  inner 
latter  passage,  and  Josephus,  Ant.  ix.  chamber.”  This  (lx.  2)  is  “ the  inner 

6,  § 1.  chamber  of  inner  chambers” 

3 Seder  Olam,  cap.  18,  with  the 
notes  of  Meyer,  933,  934. 


Lecx.  XXXII. 


THE  CALL  OF  JEHU. 


367 


say,  You  know  ^ as  well  as  I do,  that  this  mysterioiia 
^Wisitor  was  no  other  than  a prophet,  coming  and 
"going,  after  the  manner  of  Elijah.”  With  an  abrupt- 
ness which  gives  a touch  of  military  life  to  the  whole 
transaction,  they  replied,  " It  is  a lie  ; tell  us  now  ” 
Then  he  broke  his  reserve,  and  revealed  the  secret  in- 
terview. It  had,  indeed,  been  a messenger  from  Elisha, 
to  fulfil  the  long-impending  mission  of  Elijah.  Once 
more  there  was  a consecrated  king  of  Israel.  The  oil 
of  inauguration  had  been  poured  on  the  head  of  Jehu. 
He  was  to  go  forth  " the  anointed  of  the  Lord,”  to 
exterminate  the  house  of  Ahab.^  It  was  as  if  a spark 
had  been  set  to  a train  long  prepared.  There  was  not 
a moment’s  hesitation.  The  officers  tore  off  their 
military  cloaks,  and  spread  them  under  his  feet,  where 
he  stood  on  the  top  of  the  stairs^  leading  down  into 
the  court.  As  he  stood  on  this  extempore  throne, 
with  no  seat  but  the  steps  covered  by  the  carpeting 
of  the  square  pieces  of  cloth,  they  blew  the  well-known 
blast  of  the  ram’s  horn  which  always  accompanied  the 
inauguration  of  a king  of  Israel. 

From  this  moment  the  course  of  Jehu  is  fixed.  The 
destiny  long  brooding  over  him  — the  design  xhe  march 
perhaps  raised  in  his  own  mind,  from  the  day 
when  he  had  first  met  Elijah  — is  to  be  accomplished. 
" If  it  be  your  minds,  let  none  go  forth,  nor  escape  out 

1 Josephus  {Ant.  ix.  6,  § 2)  renders  any  seat  or  chair  below  him.  Tho 

it,  “ Your  words  show  that  you  know  stairs  doubtless  ran  round  the  inside 
— for  his  message  was,  indeed,  that  of  the  (juadrangle  of  the  house,  as  they 
of  a madman.”  do  now,  for  instance,  in  the  ruin  called 

2 2 Chr.  xxii.  7 ; 2 Kings  ix.  7.  the  house  of  Zacchaeus  at  Jericho  — 

3 The  expression  translated  on  the  and  Jehu  sat  where  they  joined  the 
“ top  of  the  stairs  is  one  of  which  we  flat  platform  which  formed  the  top  or 
have  lost  the  clew.  The  word  is  roof  of  the  house.  Thus  he  was  con- 
j^ercm,  i.  t.  a ‘ bone,’  and  the  meaning  spicuous  against  the  sky,  while  the 
appears  to  be  tliat  they  placed  Jehu  captains  were  below  him  in  the  quad- 
on  the  very  stairs  themselves,  without  rangle.”  — Diet,  of  Bihlcy  art.  Jehu. 


368 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRL  — JEHU. 


Lect.  XXXII. 


the  city  to  go  to  tell  it  in  Jezreel.”  The  secrecy 
was  to  be  preserved  till  the  last  moment.  He  mounted 
his  chariot;  he  armed  himself  with  his  bow^  and 
quiver.  A large  part  of  the  army  followed  him.  They 
crossed  the  Jordan,  and  up  the  wide  opening  of  the 
valley  between  Little  Hermon  and  Gilboa,  they  ad- 
vanced upon  Jezreel.  Twice ^ over  we  are  told,  not 
without  a certain  pathos,  that  the  King  of  Israel  lay 
sick  in  Jezreel  of  the  wounds  that  he  had  received  in 
the  battles  of  his  country,  and  that  his  nephew,  the 
King  of  Judah,  had  come  to  visit  him  in  his  sick- 
chamber.  They  were  startled  by  the  announcement 
of  the  sentinel  — who  stood  always  on  the  high  watch- 
tower^  of  Jezreel  looking  towards  the  east  — that  the 
dust^  of  a vast  multitude  was  seen  advancing  from 
the  Jordan  valley.  The  first  apprehension  must  have 
been  of  a Syrian  invasion,  or  of  a Syrian  alliance.  Two 
horsemen  'were  successively  sent  out  to  bring  informa- 
tion, but,  according  to  his  plan,  were  detained  by  Jehu, 
so  as  to  secure  the  suddenness  of  his  arrival;  till  at 
last,  as  the  cavalcade  drew  nearer,  the  sentinel  on  the 
watch-tower  recognized,  by  the  furious  speed  of  the 
foremost  horses,  that  the  charioteer  could  be  no  other 
than  Jehu,  the  Mad  Driver.  Joram,  still  apparently 
filled  with  the  thought  of  the  Syrian  war,  roused  him- 
self from  his  sick-bed,  and,  accompanied  by  his  nephew, 
Arrival  at  Went  out  to  meet  the  captain  of  his  host. 
Jezreel.  Jehu  had  halted,  in  his  onward  march,  at  a 
well-known  spot,  close  under  the  walls  of  Jezreel. 
They  found  ” him  in  the  fatal  plot  of  Naboth’s 
ground.  He  was  determined  to  receive  them  there. 


1 2 Kings  ix.  24.  See  Hitter,  Palest.  414  ; perhaps 

2 Ibid.  viii.  28  ; ix.  1 5.  Mifjdol. 

2 An  old  square  tower  still  remains.  * 2 Kings  ix.  1 7 (LXX.). 


UcT.  XXXII. 


ARRIVAL  AT  JEZREEL. 


S60 


Then,  in  answer  to  Joram’s  question,  ^^Is  it  peace^ 
^^Jehu?”  he  revealed  his  purpose.  It  was  the  great 
Queen-mother,  the  mighty  Jezebel,  that  was  the  main 
object  of  his  attack.  Joram  wheeled  his  chariot  round 
and  fled.  An  arrow  from  Jehu’s  bow  pierced  his  back. 
He  fell  in  the  chariot;  and  Jehu,  with  a grim  reference 
to  Elijah’s  prophecy,  delivered  on  that  very  spot,  bade 
nis  chief  officer,  Bidkar,  throw  the  lifeless  carcass  on 
the  ground,  and  leave  it  for  the  vultures  and  dogs.^ 
The  King  of  Judah  meantime  had  fled  far  down  the 
western  plain.  The  accounts  of  his  death  vary.  He 
endeavored  to  escape  by  the  Pass  of  Engannim ; but 
the  arrows  of  the  pursuers  struck  him  also,  though 
not  fatally,  near  the  ascent  to  a well-known  caravan- 
serai,^ which  caused  him  to  change  his  route.  Accord- 
ing to  Josephus,^  he  left  his  chariot,  and  rode  cm  horse- 
back to  Megiddo.  Here  his  strength  failed.  Accord- 
ing to  the  Chronicles,^  he  contrived  to  reach  Samaria, 
and  lay  there  concealed,  till  he  was  dragged  out,  proba- 
bly some  days  later,  and  killed  in  cold  blood. 

Jehu  was  now  near  the  gates  of  Jezreel.  The 
palace  overhung  the  walls,  and  looked  down  The  death 
on  the  dreadful  scene  of  guilt  and  of  retribu- 
tion.  There  was  one  spirit  in  the  house  of  Ahab  still 
unbroken.  The  aged  Queen-mother  tired  her  head 
and  painted  her  eyelids  ^ with  lead-ore,  to  give  them  a 
darker  border  and  a brighter  and  larger  appearance, 
and  looked  through  the  high  latticed  window  of  the 
watch-towxr.®  The  supreme  hour  of  her  dynasty  and 
of  her  life  was  come ; and  as  Jehu’s  chariot  rolled  up 


1 2 Kings  ix.  26.  Ephrem  Syrus 
reads  It,  “ for  yesternight  I saw  ” (i.  e. 
jn  a dream)  “ the  blood  of  Naboth 
and  his  soi\s  omitting  “ the  Lord 

said. " 


2 The  “ going  up  to  Gur.” 

3 Ant.  ix.  6,  § 3. 

4 2 Chr.  xxii.  9. 

3 2 Kings  ix.  30  (Heb.). 

® Joseph.  Ant.  ix.  6,  § 4. 


VO/^.  II. 


24 


870 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMUL— JEHU. 


Lect.  XXXII 


the  ascent,  she  cast  her  thoughts  back  to  the  days 
when  Oniri,  the  founder  of  her  dynasty,  had  trampled 
down  the  false  usurper  Zimri.  It  is  difficult  to  know 
whether  her  words  were  spoken  in  stern  rebuke  or 
bitter  irony,  “Had  Zimri  peace  who  slew  his  lord?”^ 
or  ^V^elcome  to  Zimri,^  the  slayer  of  his  lord.”  The 
savage  conqueror  looked  up.^  Ills  words,  too,  are 
variously  handed  down:  “Who  art  thou?” — “Come 
“ down  to  me  ; ” or  “ Who  is  on  my  side,  who  ? ”^  Two 
eunuchs  here,  three  thei'e,  looked  out  at  his  call,  and 
dashed  ^ the  Queen  down  from  the  window.  She  fell 
between  the  palace  and  the  advancing  chariot.  The 
blood  Hew  up  against  the  wall  and  over  the  horses,  as 
they  trampled  her  down  under  their  hoofs.  The  con- 
quering procession  drove  through  the  gateway,  and 
sate  do\m  to  a triumphal  feast.®  Not  till  the  feast  was 
over  did  a spark  of  feeling  rise  within  the  breast  of 
Jehu  at  the  fall  of  so  much  grandeur.  He  bade  his 
servants  go  out  and  bury  the  woman,  who,  with  all  her 
crimes,  was  yet  the  daughter  of  a king.  But  it  was 
too  late.  The  body  had  been  left  on  the  “ mounds,”  as 
they  are  called  in  Eastern  stories,  where  the  offal  is 
thrown  outside  the  city  gates.  The  wild  dogs  of  Jez- 
reel,  prowling  then  as  now  around  the  walls,  had  done 
their  work ; only  the  harder  parts  of  the  human  frame 
remained,  — the  skull,  the  hands,  and  the  feet.^  It  is 
this  dreadful  scene  which  is  so  well  caught  in  Kacine’s 
tragedy  of  “Athalie,”  where  the  daughter  of  Jezebel 
recounts  the  dream  in  which  her  mother’s  ghost 
appeared  to  her : — 

1 Or,  “ Is  it  peace,  O Zimri,  slayer  ^ Joseph.  Ibid,  and  LXX. 

of  his  lord  ” (Kell,  Comment.').  ^ 2 Kings  lx.  33. 

2 So  Joseph.  Ant.  ix.  6,  § 4,  /caAof  6 Ibid.  ix.  34. 

#ovA6f,  &c.  Ibid.  34-37  ; comp.  Ps.  cxK  T 

3 Joseph.  Ibid. 


Lsot.  XXXII. 


THE  DEATH  OF  JEZEBEL. 


371 


Ma  mere  Jezabel  devant  moi  s’est  montree, 

Comme  an  jour  de  sa  mort,  pompeusement  paree. 

Ses  malheurs  n’avaient  point  abattu  sa  fierte, 

Meme  elle  avail  encore  eet  eclat  emprunte 
Dont  elle  eut  soin  de  peindre  et  d’orner  son  visage, 

Pour  reparer  des  ans  I’irreparable  outrage  , . . 

Son  ombre  vers  mon  lit  a paru  se  baisser, 

Et  moi  je  lui  tendis  les  mains  pour  I’embrasser, 

Mais  je  ne  Fai  plus  trouve  qu’un  horrible  melange 
D’os  et  de  chair  meurtris  et  traines  dans  la  fange, 

D('S  lambeaux  pleins  de  sang  et  des  membres  affreux, 

Que  des  chiens  devorans  disputaient  entr’  euxJ 

Every  stage  of  Jehu’s  progress  was  thenceforth 
marked  with  blood,  yet  still  under  the  same  ^jarch  on 
overruling  self-control.  After  the  Ml  of  Jezreel, 
he  marched  on  to  the  capital,  Samaria.  Of  seventy 
young  princes  who  were  awaiting  his  arrival  there  he 
secured  the  destruction,  by  a bold  challenge  which  threw 
the  responsibility  on  the  chief  minister.^  Half-way  be- 
tween Jezreel  and  Samaria  was  a well-known  shearing- 
house,  or  other  resort  of  shepherds ; here  he  executed 
forty-two  members  of  the  royal  family  of  Judah,  who 
had  started  from  Jerusalem,  perhaps  on  the  rumor  of 
the  revolution  at  Jezreel.  In  a well,  close  by,  as  at 
Cawnpore,  they  were  all  slaughtered.  It  was  immedi- 
ately after  this  that  he  came  across  a figure,  who  might 
have  reminded  him  of  Elijnh  himself  It  was 

-1  Til  -1  Jehonadab. 

Jciionadab  the  son  ol  Kechab,  — that  is,  the  son 
of  the  “ Rider,”  — an  Arab  chief  of  the  Kenite  tribe,  who 
was  the  founder  or  second  founder -of  one  of  those 
Nazarite  communities  which  had  grown  ^ up  in  the  king- 
dom of  Israel,  and  which  in  this  instance  combined  a 
kind  of  monastic  discipline  with  the  manners  of  the 
Bedouin  race  from  whom  they  were  descended.'^  It 

1 Act  II.  Scene  5.  3 Arnos  li.  11. 

3 2 Kings  X.  3.  4 1 (Jhr.  ii.  55  ; Jer.  xxxv.  6,  7. 


S72 


TUE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.  — JEHU. 


Lect.  XXXII 


Beems  that  he  and  Jehu  were  already  known  to  each 
otherd  The  King  was  in  his  chariot ; the  Arab  was  on 
foot.  It  may  be  that  the  house  of  “ the  shepherds  ” ^ (as 
the  place  of  their  meeting  was  called)  was  a usual  haunt 
of  the  pastoral  chief.  It  is  not  clear  which  was  the  first 
to  speak.  The  Hebrew  text  implies  that  the  King  gave 
his  blessing  to  Jehonadab.^  The  Septuagint  and  Jose- 
phus imply  that  Jehonadah  blessed  the  King.  The 
King  knew  tlie  stern  tenacity  of  purpose  that  distin- 
guished Jehonadah  and  his  tribe  : Is  thy  heart  right 

with  my  heart,  as  my  heart  is  with  thy  heart  ? ” The 
answer  of  Jehonadah  is  slightly  varied.  In  the  Hebrew 
text,  he  replies  vehemently,  ^‘It  is,  it  is  — give  me  thy 
hand.”  In  the  Septuagint,^  he  replies  simply,  It  is,” 
and  then  Jehu  with  his  wonted  caution,  rejoins,  ^Hf  it  is, 
^^give  me  thy  hand.”  The  hand,  whether  of  Jehonadah 
or  Jehu,  was  grasped  in  a clasp  which  was  not  afterwards 
jiarted.  The  King  lifted  him  up  to  the  edge  of  the 
chariot,  apparently  to  whisper  into  his  ear  the  first  indi- 
cation of  the  religious  revolution  which  he  had  deter- 
mined to  make  with  the  jiolitical  revolution  already 
accomplished.  Side  by  side  with  the  King,  the  austere 
Hermit  sate  in  the  royal  chariot  as  he  entered  the  capital 
of  Samaria,  the  warrior  in  his  coat  of  mail,  the  ascetic 
in  his  hair-cloth.”  ^ 

After  the  few  remaining  adherents  or  members  of  the 
The  massa-  house  of  Ahab  were  put  to  death,  it  might  have 
mLia.  ^ seemed  that  the  throne  of  Jehu  was  established, 
and  the  massacres  stayed.  Nothing  had  yet  been  done 
beyond  what  might  be  necessary  for  the  extinction  of 
the  reigning  dynasty.  The  temple  of  Ashtaroth  had 

Joseph.  Ant.  ix.  6,  § 6.  3 In  Josephus,  Jehonadah  blesses 

2 Beth-eked  (translated  “ the  shear-  Jehu;  see  Keil,  loc. 
ing-house  ”).  Followed  by  the  English  Version 

5 Dr.  Pusey  on  Amos,  p 176. 


Lbct.  xxxn. 


THE  MASSACRE  AT  SAMARIA. 


373 


been  left  standing  at  Jezreel ; ^ the  temple  of  Baal  was 
still  standing  in  Samaria.  To  Jehonadab  alone  had  the 
King  whispered  his  zeal  for  Jehovah.  To  all  the  rest  of 
Israel  he  could  say,  Ahab  served  Baal  a little  ; but 
“ Jehu  shall  serve  him  much.”  A splendid  festival  was 
announced  in  the  temple  at  Samaria;  the  whole  heathen 
population  of  Israel  was  summoned ; the  sacrifices  were 
ready ; the  sacred  vestments  were  brought  out ; all  the 
worshippers  of  Baal  were  there  ; all  the  servants  of 
Jehovah,  as  unworthy  of  the  sacred  mysteries,  were  ex- 
cluded.^ The  King  himself  was  the  first  to  enter,  and 
offer  the  victims  to  the  heathen  gods.  There  was  noth- 
ing in  that  unmoved  countenance  to  betray  the  secret. 
Even  the  King  and  the  Anchorite  were  able  to  the  last 
moment  to  preserve  the  mask  of  conformity  to  the 
Phoenician  worship.  They  completed  ^ their  sacrifice, 
and  left  the  temple.  Bound  about  the  building  were 
eighty  men,  consisting  of  the  King’s  own  immediate 
officers  and  body-guard.  They  were  intrusted  with  the 
double  charge,  first  of  preventing  the  escape  of  any  one, 
and,  secondly,  of  striking  the  deadly  blow.  They  en- 
tered, and  the  temple  was  strewn  with  corpses,  which, 
as  fast  as  they  fell,  the  guards  and  the  officers  threw  out 
with  their  own  hands.  At  last,  when  the  bloody  work 
was  over,  they  found  their  way  to  the  inner  sanctuary, 
^vhich  towered  like  a fortress  above  the  rest.  There,  as 
we  have  seen,^  Baal  was  seated  aloft,  with  the  gods  of 
Phoenicia  round  him.  The  wooden  images,  small  and 
great,  were  dragged  from  their  thrones  and  burnt.  The 
pillar  or  statue  of  Baal  which  Joram  had  removed  was 
also  shattered.  The  temple  was  razed  to  the  ground, 

1 2 Kings  xiil.  6.  3 9 Kings  x.  25  (LXX.). 

2 See  Herodian,  v.  5 ; Silius  Ital.  ^ See  Lecture  XXX. 
iii.  20-27  (Ewald,  iii.  532). 


374 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMEI.  — JEHU. 


Lkct.  XXXII 


and  its  site  only  known  in  afteiMlaj^s  as  the  depository 
of  all  the  filtli  of  the  town.^ 

So  ended  this  great  revolution.  Tlie  national  worship 
of  Baal  was  thus  in  the  northern  kingdom  forever  sup- 
pressed. For  a short  time,  through  the  very  circum- 
stances whicli  had  destroyed  it  in  Samaria,  it  shot  up 
afresh  in  Jerusalem.  But  iu  Israel,  the  whole  kino;dom 
and  church  returned  to  the  condition  in  which  it  was 
before  tlie  accession  of  the  house  of  Omri.  The  calt- 
worship  of  Jeroboam  was  once  more  revived,  and  in 
that  imperfect  form  the  True  Religion  once  more  be- 
came established. 

The  character  of  Jehu  is  not  difficult  to  understand, 
^ ^ if  we  take  it  as  a whole,  and  consider  the  gen- 

eral impression  left  upon  us  by  the  Biblical 
account.  He  is  exactly  one  of  those  men  whom  we  are 
compelled  to  recognize,  not  for  what  is  good  or  great  in 
themselves,  but  as  instruments  for  destroying  evil  and 
preparing  the  way  for  good ; such  as  Augustus  Coesar 
at  Rome,  Sultan  Mahmoud  II.  in  Turkey,  or  one  closer 
at  hand  in  the  revolutions  of  our  own  time  and  neigh- 
borhood. A destiny,  long  kept  in  view  by  himself  or 
others  — inscrutable  secrecy  and  reserve  in  carrying 
out  his  plans  — a union  of  cold  remorseless  tenacity 
with  occasional  bursts  of  furious,  wayward,  almost  jQi- 
natical,  zeal : this  is  Jehu,  as  he  is  set  before  us  in  the 
historical  narrative,  the  worst  type  of  a son  of  Jacob,  — 
the  supplanter,”  as  he  is  called,^  without  the  noble  and 
princely  qualities  of  Israel,  — the  most  unlovely  and 
the  most  coldly  commended  of  all  the  heroes  of  his 
country.^ 

1 2 Kings  X.  27.  ^ Except  that  “aZZ  his  might”  is 

2 Ibid  X.  19,  “in  subtilty  ” (Heb.).  applied  to  him  alone  of  all  the  Kings 

of  Israel  (2  Kings  x.  31). 


Lect.  XXXII. 


HIS  CHARACTER. 


375 


We  may  remember  the  poem  in  the  ^^Lyra  Apostcl 
ica/’  — 

TJwu  to  wax  fierce 
In  the  cause  of  the  Lord ; 

and  the  striking  passage  of  Kacine,  — 

Jehu,  sur  les  hauts  lieux  enfin  osant  ofFrir 
Un  temeraire  encens  que  Dieu  ne  peut  souffrir, 

N’a  pour  servir  sa  cause  et  venger  ses  injures 
Ni  le  coeur  assez  droit  ni  les  mains  assez  puresJ 

And  it  is  a striking  instance  of  the  gradually  increasing 
light,  even  in  the  Jewish  Dispensation,  that  in  the  wider 
and  more  evangelical  revelations  of  the  later  Prophets, 
the  commendation  on  Jehu’s  acts  is  repealed.  It  is  de- 
clared, through  the  voice  of  Hosea,  that  for  the  blood 
even  of  Jezebel  and  Ahaziah  an  account  must  be  ren- 
dered : I will  avenge  the  blood  of  Jezreel  upon  the 

house  of  Jehu.”  ^ Their  blood,  like  the  blood  which 
has  been  shed  again  and  again,  in  the  convulsions  of 
Nations  and  Churches,  was  a righteous  retribution  on 
them ; but  from  him  who  shed  it  a no  less  righteous  ret- 
ribution is  at  last  exacted,  by  the  just  judgment  which 
punishes  the  wrong-doer,  not  only  of  one  party  in 
Church  or  State,  but  of  both. 

And  the  accursed  spot  of  the  ancient  dynasty,  the 
very  title  and  site  of  Jezreel  seemed  to  draw  down  upon 
itself  a kind  of  Divine  compassion.  The  innocent  child 
of  the  Prophet  was  to  bear  the  name  of  Jezreel,  and 
the  bow  ” of  Jehu’s  house  was  to  be  broken”  ...  in 

the  great  day  of  Jezreel.”^  It  is  the  same  touching 

thought  of  life  growing  out  of  death,  which  has  so  often 
forced  itself  on  those  who  have  seen  the  rich  harvest 

1 Athalie^  Act  III.  Scene  6.  cause  he  killed  him.”  Compare  1 

2 Ilosea  i.  4.  So  Baasha,  though  Kings  xv.  29  and  xvi.  7. 

ae  has  the  Divine  command  to  over-  3 Hos.  i.  4,  5,  11. 
throw  Jeroboam,  is  condemned  “ be- 


376 


THE  HOUSE  OF  OMRI.  — JEHU. 


Lect  XXX  I r. 


Bpringing  up  out  of  a battle-field,  that  out  of  that  time 
and  place  of  humiliation  the  name  is  to  go  hack  to  its 
original  signification  as  derived  from  the  beauty  and 
fertility  of  the  rich  plain,  and  to  become  a pledge  of  the 
revived  beauty  and  richness  of  Israel.  I will  hear  and 

answer  the  heavens,  and  they  will  hear  and  answer 
‘‘  the  earth,  and  the  earth  shall  hear  and  answer  the 
“ corn  and  the  wine  and  the  oil  of  that  fruitful  plain, 
“ and  they  shall  hear  and  answer  Jezreel  (that  is,  the 
“seed  of  God),  and  I will  sow  her  unto  Me  in  the  earth.’^^ 
And  from  this  time  the  image  seems  to  have  been  con- 
tinued as  a pro]:>hetical  expression  for  sowing  the  bless- 
ings of  God,  and  the  people  of  Israel,  as  it  were  broad- 
cast; as  though  the  whole  of  Palestine  and  the  world 
were  to  become,  in  a spiritual  sense,  one  rich  plain  of 
Jezreel. 

1 Hos.  i.  4,  5,  11;  ii.  22  (Heb.)  ; see  Ewald,  Propheten^  ad  loc.,  and 
Se'wuius,  art.  “ Jezreel.” 


LECTURE  XXXIII 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEHU. 

THE  SYRIAN  WARS,  AND  THE  PROPHET  JONAR 

With  the  overthrow  of  the  house  of  Omri,  the  main 
interest  of  the  history  of  Samaria  is  brought  to  an  end. 
The  long  struggle  was  finished,  and  the  good  cause,  in 
however  imperfect  a form,  and  by  instruments  however 
rude,  triumphed  at  last.  The  scenes  of  that  struggle 
have  been  described  as  they  are  given  in  the  sacred 
narrative  itself,  not  softening  any  of  their  horrors,  nor 
extenuating  their  intense  charm.  Ulphilas,  the  apostle 
of  the  Goths,  and  author  of  the  first  version  of  the 
Scriptures  in  the  German  languages,  omitted  from  his 
translation  the  Books  of  Kings,  lest  descriptions  like 
these  should  rouse  or  confirm  the  savage  spirit  of  the 
barbarian  tribes.  It  is  an  advantage  of  our  more  civil- 
ized times,  that  we  can  now  read  these  interesting 
narratives  without  any  such  fear.  They  are  not  Chris- 
tian ; they  belong  to  that  state  of  crude  morality  which 
our  Lord  condemned.^  But  as  illustrations  of  the  Jewish 
Church,  and  as  masterpieces  of  the  historical  art,  if  I 
may  so  say,  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  they  are  invalu- 
able. 

Of  the  less  important  period  of  the  House  of  Jehu, 
the  Syrian  wars  form  the  main  outward  framework. 
Down  to  the  time  of  the  disruption  of  the  kingdom,  the 
Deople  of  Israel  had  on  the  whole  maintained  its  inde* 


I Matt.  V.  27,  &c.  See  Lecture  XI. 


378 


THE  SYKIAN  WARS. 


Leci.  XXXIIL 


Damascus. 


pendence  of  foreign  powers.  Its  contests  and  alliances 
had  for  the  most  part  been  with  the  nations  inclosed 
The  Syrian  ^vitliiii  the  limits  of  Palestine.  The  conquests 
wars.  David,  the  commerce  of  Solomon,  had  not 

entangled  them  in  any  close  political  relations  with  the 
more  distant  of  the  siirronnding  nations.  But  the  sepa- 
ration of  the  two  kingdoms  made  each  of  them  a more 
easy  prey,  and  the  riches  acquired  during  the  empire, 
previously  united,  excited  the  ambition  of  the  neighbor- 
ing countries,  now  that  the  strong  hand  of  David  and 
Solomon  was  removed. 

Damascus,  as  soon  as  it  threw  oTthe  yoke  of  Judah, 
became  naturally  the  capital  of  the  new  Ara- 
maic kingdom  thus  formed.  ^^Aram  (Syria)  of 
Damascus  ” was  the  title  by  which  it  was  known,  to  dis 
tinguish  it  from  those  which  had  preceded  it  at  Zobah 
Hamath,  or  other  places  in  the  highlands  of  the  north 
of  Palestine.  Rezon,  the  outlaw,  was  its  founder.^ 
Ilader  or  Had  ad,  and  Rimmon,  were  the  chief  divinities 
of  the  race,  and  from  them  the  line  of  its  kings  derived 
their  names,  — Hadad,  Ben-hadad,  Hadad-ezer,  Tab- 
rimmon;^  and  sanctuaries  in  their  honor  were  estab- 
lished even  in  the  heart  of  Palestine.^ 

How  entirely  the  Syrian  wars  belonged  to  the  north- 
ern, and  not  to  the  southern  kingdom,  appears  from  the 
fact  that  the  first  incursion,  wdiich  ended  in  the  devasta- 
tion of  the  rich  country  round  the  sources  of  the  Jordan, 
by  Benhadad,  was  at  the  direct  instigation  of  the  King 
of  Judah.^  This  seems  to  have  been  temporary.  But 
in  Omri’s  reign  the  demands  of  Syria  were  bolder. 
‘^Cities”  were  taken  from  him 


amongst  them  Ramoth- 


1 1 Kinjrs  xi.  23  ; perhaps  also 
nailed  Hezion,  1 Kings  xv.  18.  LXX. 
Esi'om,  Rason,  Hazael. 


3 Hadad-Rimmon. 
XXXIX. 

4 1 Kincfs  XV.  18-20. 


See  Lecture 


Lbct.  XXXIIL 


RAMOTH-GILEAD. 


379 


Gilead  and  probably  other  fortresses  on  the  eastern  bank 
of  the  Jordan  — and  a quarter  or  bazaar,  in  the  capital 
of  Samaria,  for  settlers  from  Damascus.^ 

Still  more  imperious  demands  were  made  on  Ahab. 
His  harem  and  his  treasures  were  to  be  surrendered,  and 
after  them  the  treasures  of  his  nobles.  The  army  of 
Syria  was  so  numerous,  that  the  dust  of  Samaria,  when 
it  was  ground  to  powder,  would  not  till  their  hands. 
The  King  of  Syria  treated  the  siege  of  Samaria  as  a 
pastime,  — sitting  with  his  subject  kings  in  rural  ban- 
quets, under  leafy  arbors,  made  for  the  occasion.^  Two- 
and-thirty^  of  these  vassal  chiefs  followed  Benhadad’s 
camp,  each  with  his  chariots  and  horses.  Chariots  and 
horses”  innumerable  were  the  symbol  of  the  strength 
of  Syria.  In  spite  of  all  the  changes  introduced  by 
Solomon,  the  Israelites  were  still  far  inferior  in  this 
branch  of  military  service.  ^^The  chariots^  and  horse- 
men  and  horses  ” passed  almost  into  a proverb  to  ex- 
press strength  beyond  their  own.^  The  Israelite  host, 
with  the  allied  army  of  Judah,  encamped  on  their  hill- 
sides, and  overlooking  the  vast  army  of  the  Syrians  in 
the  plain  below,  were  but  like  two  little  flocks  of  moun- 
tain kids.®  Another  strong  arm  of  war,  although  here 
the  Israelites  were  more  equally  matched,  was  their 
archery.  Twice  over,  an  arrow  from  the  Syrian  bowmen 
decided  the  fate  of  battles."^ 

Kamoth-Gilead,  the  great  frontier  fortress,  was  in  the 
hands  of  Syria,  even  after  many  reverses,  a Ramoth- 
constant  menace  against  Israel.  As  it  was  now 

1 1 Kings  XX.  34.  Josephus,  Ant.  in  Mr.  Newman’s  Hebrew  Monarchy^ 
riii.  15,  § 3,  and  see  Thenius  ad  loc.  p.  183. 

2 1 Kings  XX.  12-16.  5 2 Kings  ii.  11,  12;  vi.  17;  viL 

3 Ibid.  XX.  1,  16  ; xxii.  31.  6 ; xiii.  14. 

The  advantage  of  chariots  over  ® i Kings  xx.  27. 
infantry  or  even  cavalry  in  the  un-  ^ Jbld.  xxii.  34;  2 Chron.  xxii.  5 
inclosed  plains  of  Syria  is  well  given  (LXX.  and  Josephus). 


B80 


THE  SYRIAN  WARS. 


lect.  xxxin 


the  point  of  contention  between  Syria  and  Israel,  so 
formerly  it  had  been  the  frontier  between  the  tribes  of 
Laban  and  Jacob.  A lofty  watch-tower  gave  it  the  name 
of  Mizpeh,  and  it  was  known  from  far  as  the  rallying- 
place  of  the  trans-J ordanic  tribes,  and  the  city  of  refuge 
for  the  Gadites.  Campaign  after  campaign  was  formed 
against  it.  Know  ye  that  Ramoth-Gilead  is  ours,  and 
‘‘  we  be  still,  and  take  it  not  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
King  of  Syria  ? ” was  the  standing  remonstrance  of 
the  Kings  of  Israel.^  Shall  I go  up  against  Ramoth- 
Gilead,  or  shall  I forbear  ?”  was  the  standing  question.^ 
Ahab  lost  his  life  in  trying  to  recover  it ; Joram  re- 
ceived there  the  wounds  which  laid  him  long  on  a bed 
of  sickness.  There  the  captains  of  the  host  formed  a 
separate  community  by  themselves  — from  the  pro 
tracted  siege.  The  first  question  raised  when  a clom-; 
of  dust  was  seen  approaching  Jezreel  from  the  east  was, 
‘^Is  it  peace  in  Ramoth-Gilead?”^ 

Twice  in  Ahab’s  reign,  and  once  in  that  of  his  son, 
the  Syrians  met  with  signal  reverses,  which  saved 
the  northern  kingdom  from  utter  extinction.  The 
first  was  a panic  in  the  Syrian  camp,  during  the  prep- 
arations against  Samaria,  occasioned  by  the  sudden 
appearance  of  a body  of  young  Israelite  nobles.  The 
second  was  the  battle  of  Aphek.^  The  victorious  result 
was  the  more  conspicuous  from  its  being  fought  on  the 
plain  and  not  in  the  hills.  Benhadad  was  reduced  to 
beg  for  his  life  and  kingdom,  but  was  let  off  on  easy 
terms,  through  the  feeling  of  brotherhood  even  then 
existing  among  crowned  heads.® 

The  most  remarkable  incident  of  the  war  was  the 

1 1 Kings  xxli.  3. 

2 Ibid.  xxii.  6,  15. 

3 2 Kings  ix.  18;  Josephus,  Ant 

IX.  6,  § 3. 


* 1 Kings  XX.  23. 

* Ibid.  XX.  38. 


381 


_KCT.  XXXIII.  ELISHA  THE  PKOPHET  OF  SYRIA. 

In 

siege  of  Samaria.  It  was  the  first  of  that  succession  of 
sieges  which  have  left  such  awful  scars  on  siege  of  Sa. 
the  history  of  Israel.  Now  for  the  first  time, 
but  not  for  the  last,  was  the  dreadful  curse  fulfilled,  con- 
tained in  the  ancient  law, — ^^The  tender  and  delicate 
woman  devouring  her  own  offspring.”^  The  surround- 
ing hills  were  occupied  by  the  Syrian  army,  who  could 
watch  the  condition  of  the  besieged  city,  reaching  as  it 
did  down  the  slopes  of  the  mountain  of  Samaria.  Below 
was  the  house  where  Elisha  held  his  councils ; on  the 
summit  was  the  palace.  On  the  broad  wall  the  King 
passed  to  and  fro,  and  received  the  complaints  of  the 
besieged.  The  sudden  panic  which  delivered  the  city  is 
the  one  marked  intervention  in  behalf  of  the  northern 
capital.  No  other  incident  could  be  found  in  the  sacred 
annals  so  appropriately  to  express,  in  the  church  of 
Gouda,  the  pious  gratitude  of  the  citizens  of  Leyden 
for  their  deliverance  from  the  Spanish  army,  as  the 
miraculous  raising  of  the  siege  of  Samaria. 

In  the  midst  of  these  merely  military  and  political 
movements  there  are  four  names  which  unite  them  to 
the  religious  history  of  the  nation,  — Elisha,  Hazael, 
Jeroboam  IL,  and  Jonah. 

Of  Elisha  we  have  already  spoken  at  length,  as  the 
successor  of  Elijah,  and  as  the  supporter  of  the  dynasty 
of  Jehu.  But  there  is  another  aspect  of  the  Prophetical 
office  in  which  he  appears,  and  of  which  he  is  the  first 
representative. 

On  the  one  hand  he  is  the  support  and  champion  ot 
his  countrymen,  in  this  time  of  their  need,  against  their 
foreign  enemies.  He  conveys  to  the  King  of  Israel 
secret  intelligence  of  all  the  movements  of  the  Syrians. 
He  takes  up  his  abode  in  Samaria  during  the  siege. 

1 Deut.  xxvlil,  56,  57 ; 2 Kings  vi.  28;  Lam.  iv.  10;  Joseph,  li.  J.  vi.  3, 

§4 


382 


rHE  SYRIAN  WARS. 


Lkct.  XXXIIl 


The  nobles  of  the  city  hold  their  councils  in  his  house. 
He  is  so  identified  with  the  resistance  to  the  enemy, 
that,  on  hearing  of  the  frightful  effects  of  the  famine, 
the  King  sends  an  executioner  to  behead  him.  He  is 
the  life  and  soul  of  the  patriotic  party  in  the  invaded 
kingdom.  The  Syrian  King  finds  that  he  is  baffled  in 
his  schemes  by  constant  revelations  of  them  to  the 
King  of  Israel  through  Elisha,  who  tells  “the  words 
“that  he  speaks  in  his  bedchamber.”^  He  is  in  this 
respect  the  forerunner  of  Micah  and  Isaiah.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  from  his  time  that  the  Prophets  of 
Israel  appear  as  the  oracles,  as  the  monitors,  not  only 
of  Israel  but  of  the  surrounding  nations.  The  larger 
comprehensiveness,  for  which  the  way  had  been  prepared 
in  the  reign  of  Solomon,  was  now  beginning  to  show 
Elisha  the  itself  in  this  the  most  national  of  all  their  in- 

the  Proph- 
et of  Syria.  stitutions.  Elisha  is  the  Prophet  of  the  Syrians 

as  well  as  of  the  Israelites.  It  is  this  feature  of  his 
character  that  is  caught  in  the  only  notice  of  him  con- 
tained in  the  New  Testament : “ There  were  many 
“ lepers  in  Israel  in  the  time  of  Elisha  the  prophet,  but 
“none  were  healed  save  Naaman  the  Syrian.”^  The 
incident  of  Naaman  grows  directly  out  of  the  relations 
of  Israel  with  Syria.  The  plundering  troops  of  Damas- 
cus have  carried  off  a little  slave.  She  retains  her  rec- 
ollection of  the  great  Prophet.  The  wife  of  Naaman 
tells  him.^  The  King  of  Israel  trembles  at  the  demand 
made  upon  him  by  his  powerful  neighbor  to  cure  the 
general.  Naaman  (by  tradition  said  to  be  the  slayer  ^ 

1 2 Kings  vi.  10,  12,  31,  32.  Naaman  and  Elisha.  It  may  be  the 

2 Luke  iv.  27.  explanation  of  the  otherwise  singular 

3 2 Kings  V.  5 (LXX.).  expression,  “ The  Lord  had  by  him 

4 Joseph,  yln^.  viii.  15,  § 5.  This  given  deliverance  unto  Syria,”  2 Kings 
allusion  is  the  more  remarkable  as  v.  1.  (See  Naaman,  in  Dictionary 
Josephus  omits  the  whole  story  of  Bible.') 


Lect.  XXXIII. 


HAZAEL. 


383 


of  Ahab)  comes  in  the  equipage  characteristic  of  his 
country.  He  is  furious  at  the  exaltation  of  the  turbid 
yellow  stream  of  the  Jordan  above  the  crystal  waters 
of  Abana  and  Pharpar,  the  real  rivers  ” of  Damascus. 
The  Prophet,  instead  of  claiming  him  as  an  exclusive 
convert,  accords  a gracious  permission  to  perform  the 
accustomed  act  of  devotion  to  the  Syrian  god,  Rimmon, 
even  whilst  acknowledging  the  supremacy  of  Jehovah. 
On  another  occasion,  in  the  same  gentle  and  catholic 
spirit,  he  will  not  allow  the  King  of  Israel  to  kill  those 
whom  he  has  not  taken  as  prisoners  of  war : Set  bread 

and  water  before  them,  that  they  may  eat  and  drink 
and  go  to  their  master.”  ^ 

He  appears  at  Damascus  itself.^  He  is  there  in  the 
midst  of  the  enemies  of  his  country.  But  the  fame  of 
his  Prophetic  power  disarmed  their  hostility  and  led  to 
his  meeting  with  the  predestined  Ruler  of  whom  he  had 
heard  years  before  from  his  master  Elijah.  It  was,  ac- 
cording to  the  local  tradition,  at  Hohah,  four  miles  from 
Damascus,  that  the  interview  took  place.^  The  Prophet 
stood  (so  it  is  said)  by  the  spot  now  marked  as  the 
grave  of  his  exiled  servant  Gehazi.  There  he  received 
the  eager  inquiry  from  the  sick-bed  of  Benhadad ; it 
was  presented  by  Hazael.  at  the  head  of  a train  Meeting 

^ . . with  Ha- 

of  forty  camels  laden  with  the  choicest  gifts  of  zaei. 
Damascus.  Nothing  seemed  too  costly  to  win  a favor- 
able reply.  What  that  reply  was  it  is  hard  to  say.  Did 
the  Prophet,  according  to  one  reading,  deliver  one  un- 
broken message  of  death  ? Or  did  he,  as  seems  more 
probable,  but  with  changes  of  tone  ^ and  voice,  which  we 

1 2 Kings  8-23.  The  mercy  of  as  it  would  seem,  of  the  older  school 
Elisha  is  brought  out  the  more  for-  (1  Kings  xx.  35). 
cibly  from  its  strong  contrast  with  the  ^ 2 Kings  viii.  7-15. 
fienje  spirit  of  a nfuneless  Prophet,  ^ See  Sinai  and  Palestine,  ch.  xii 

^ See  Thenius,  ad  loc. 


384 


THE  SYRIAN  WARS. 


Lect.  XXXUI 


cannot  now  recover,  deliver  the  double  oracle,  " Go  and 
say  to  him  Thou  shalt  live,  thou  shalt  live  ; but  the 
“ TiOrd  hath  showed  to  me  that  he  shall  die,  that  he  shall 
die  ” ? There  is  something  in  the  tortuous  reply  not 
inconsistent  with  the  ambiguous  answers  of  Elisha  on 
other  occasions.  It  is  one  of  his  contrasts  with  the 
blunt  abruptness  of  Elijah.  It  may  be  that  he  spoke 
of  the  double  issue  at  stake  in  the  sick-chamber  of  the 
King,  and  in  the  courtier’s  mind.  But  other  thoughts 
than  those  of  Benhadad’s  death  or  life  pressed  in  upon 
his  soul.  He  gazed  earnestly  on  Ilazael’s  face  ; saw  his 
future  elevation,  and  saw  with  it  the  calamities  which 
that  elevation  would  bring  on  his  country.  It  is  very 
rarely  that  the  Prophets  are  overcome  by  their  human 
emotions.  They  speak  (and  so  Elisha  did  on  this  very 
occasion)  as  men  speak  who  are  constrained  by  some 
overruling  power.  But  the  evils  which  he  now  presaged 
were  so  awful,  that  the  tears  rushed  into  his  eyes.  It 
was  the  same  foreboding  of  national  calamity  that  had 
before  expressed  itself  in  his  rebuke  to  Gehazi : Is  it  a 

time  to  receive  money,  and  to  receive  garments,  and 
olive-yards,  and  vineyards,  and  sheep,  and  oxen,  and 
men-servants,  and  maid-servants  ? ” ^ Hazael  himself 
stood  astounded  at  the  Prophet’s  message.  He,  insig- 
nificant as  he  seemed,  a mere  dog,^  to  be  raised  to  such 
lofty  power  and  do  such  famous  deeds ! But  so  it  was  to 

1 2 Kings  V.  26.  on  the  King’s  face  (as  in  the  murder 

It  is  a common  error  that  Hazael  of  Abbas  Pasha),  and  Hazael  reigned 
expresses  horror,  in  2 Kings  viii.  13,  in  his  stead.”  But  the  answer  to 
at  the  commission  of  so  great  a crime.  Elisha  has  no  reference  to  this.  It  is 
Whether  it  was  he  who  murdered  (not  “ Is  thy  servant  a dog,”  i.  e. 
Benhadad  is  itself  doubtful.  Whilst  “ so  base  as  to  do  this  ? ” but)  “ Is 
the  general  drift  tends  to  fix  the  act  thy  slave,  so  insignificant,  a mere  dog, 
on  Hazael,  the  immediate  context  worthy  of  such  high  elevation  ? 
rather  implies  that  it  was  the  attend-  See  Mr.  Grove  on  Elisha. 
iut ; — “ He  put  the  thick  mattress 


tiBOT*  JCXXIU. 


ELISHA  AND  JOASH. 


386 


be.  By  his  deed,  or  another’s,  the  King  died,  not  of  hia 
illness,  but  by  an  apparent  accident  in  his  bath ; and 
Hazael  was  at  once  raised  to  the  throne  of  Syria. 
Under  him  Damascus  became  again  a formidable  power. 
He,  in  spite  of  his  humble  anticipation  of  himself,  turned 
out  to  be  all  that  the  Prophet  had  foretold,  — mighty 
and  of  great  power.”  ^ He  was  worshipped  almost 
with  divine  honors  by  his  own  countrymen  even  at  the 
time  of  the  Christian  era.^  The  revolution  which  had 
called  Jehu  away  from  the  siege  of  Ramoth-Gilead,  and 
which  had  broken  the  alliance  between  the  kingdoms  of 
Israel  and  Judah,  opened  the  way  for  his  invasion  of 
Palestine.  The  trans-Jordanic  territory  was  laid  waste, 
its  strongholds  burnt,  its  population  massacred;  and 
through  the  reign  of  Jehu’s  successor,  the  fortunes  of 
Israel  were  depressed  yc  t lower. 

At  last,  the  brighter  day  began  to  dawn.  Already 
in  the  time  of  Jehoahaz  there  was  a promise  of  a great 
deliverer.^  In  the  days  of  Joash,  Elisha  himself  fore- 
saw the  first  turn  of  the  fortune  which  he  had  so 
mournfully  predicted.  The  last  scene  of  his  life  showed 
how  deeply  the  Syrian  war  colored  all  his  thoughts, 
as  well  as  those  of  the  King.  When  he  was  Meeting 
now  struck  with  his  mortal  sickness,  the 
young  Joash  came  to  visit  the  aged  seer  who  had 
placed  his  grandfather  on  the  throne,  and  wept  over 
his  face,  and  lamented  that  he  who  had  been  his  father, 
and  who  had  been  to  him  a defence  against  the 
chariots^  and  horsemen  of  Syria,  vi^as  now  to  depart. 
The  Prophet  roused  himself  from  his  sick-bed,  and 
bade  the  King  take  the  bow,  — the  favorite  weapon 

1 2 Kings  xii.  17;  xiii.  3.  * See  the  paraphrase  of  Josephus. 

2 Josephus,  Anl.  ix.  4,  § 6.  Ant.  ix.  8,  § 6. 

2 2 Kings  xiii.  4,  5. 

VOL.  II. 


25 


386 


THE  SYRIAN  WARS. 


Lect.  XXXIIl 


of  the  chiefs  of  Israel,  — and  then  through  the  window 
open  towards  the  eastern  cpiarter,  whence  the  hostile 
armies  of  Syria  came,  the  youthful  King,  with  the  aged 
hands  of  Elisha  planted  on  his  hands,  shot’  once,  twice, 
thrice,  upon  the  ground  outside.  The  energy  of  the 
youth  was  not  equal  to  the  energy  of  the  expiring 
Pi’ophet.  He  ought  to  have  gone  on  shooting  till  he 
had  exhausted  the  quiver.  It  would  have  been  a sign 
and  pledge  of  the  entire  destruction  of  his  enemies. 
But  still  the  tide  was  turned.  Thrice,  according  to  the 
augury,  was  the  victory  gained  on  the  scene  of  the 
former  victory  of  Ahab,  and  the  conquered  territory 
of  Israel  was  reconquered  ; and  Joash  was  able  to  com- 
pare himself  to  the  cedar  of  Lebanon,  towering  high 
above  the  thistles  that  grew,  and  above  the  wild  beasts 
that  wandered,  under  his  shade.  The  battle  of  Beth- 
shemesh  opened  the  way  for  him  to  Jerusalem  itself, 
and  alone  of  all  the  Kings  of  Israel  he  returned  captor 
and  plunderer  of  the  chief  city  of  the  rival  kingdom.^ 
But  this  was  not  all.  Elisha  was  now  gone ; had  he 
lived  to  see  the  successor  of  Joash,  his  dying  wish 
would  have  been  more  than  satisfied.  The  long-fore- 
told deliverer  at  last  arose,  the  greatest  of  all  the  Kings 
of  Samaria.  As  if  with  a forecast  of  his  future  glory, 
he  was  named  after  the  founder  of  the  kingdom, — 
Jeroboam  Jeroboam  II.  We  know  little  of  Jeroboam’s 
character  or  of  his  wars,  except  the  results. 
But  the  results  were  prodigious.  The  whole  northern 
empire  of  Solomon  was  restored.  Damascus  was  taken, 
and  the  dominion  was  once  more  extended  northward 
to  the  remote  Hamath  at  the  source  of  the  Orontes,^ 

1 So  Josephus.  last  addition  is  explained  in  various 

2 2 Kings  xiv.  8-15.  ways:  1.  formerly  belonging  to  Judah ; 

^ Ibid.  xiv.  28;  Amos  vi.  14.  2.  for  Judah;  3.  read  Zobah  (Ewald, 

“ Hamath,  of  or  for  Judah”  This  iii.  562,  comparing  2 Chr.  viii.  8)  ; 4. 


Lect.  XXXIII. 


CONQUEST  OF  MOAB. 


387 


and  southward  to  the  valley  of  willows^  which  divided 
Moab  from  Edom. 

Edom  belonged  to  Judah,  but  Moab  had  been  long 
dependent  on  Israel,  and  had  owned  its  sub-  conquest  of 
jection  by  paying  immense  herds  of  sheep  and 
lambs  as  its  annual  tribute  to  the  northern  kingdom. 
It  had  broken  through  this  custom  after  the  death 
of  Ahad ; and  as  the  troubles  of  Israel  went  on  increas- 
ing, Moabite  troops  had  made  yearly  incursions  into 
the  Israelite  territory,  and  finally  settled  north  of  the 
Arnon  within  the  Israelite  territory.  It  was  this  tract 
which  Jeroboam  reconquered ; and  in  regaining  it,  he 
seems  to  have  poured  in  a host  of  Arab  tribes  who 
swept  the  rich  land  of  Moab  itself,  and  reduced  it  to 
entire  submission.  There  was  a dreadful  record  ^ 
handed  down  to  after-times,  which  turns  on  the  horrors 
of  the  night  when  Moab  fell  or  was  to  fall  before  some 
mighty  conqueror : In  the  night,  Ar  of  Moab  is  laid 

waste  and  brought  to  silence ; in  the  night,  Kir  of 
^^Moab  is  laid  waste  and  brought  to  silence.”  The 
high-places,  the  streets,  the  extreme  borders  of  the 
country  resound  with  bowlings  and  wailings.  ^^The 
women  are  huddled  together  like  frightened  birds 
^^at  the  fords  of  the  Arnon.”  The  vineyards,  and  corn- 
fields, and  pastures  are  destroyed  by  heathen  tribes. 
The  Prophet,  whoever  he  be,  is  moved  to  tender  pity 

(as  in  the  Syriac  and  other  versions)  ago.  But  now,”  &c. ; and  so  Jere- 
omit  the  word.  miah  (xlviii.  47)  still  further  applies 

1 Isa.  XV.  7 ; perhaps  also  Amos  it  to  his  time.  Ewald  {Propketen^  i. 

vi.  14.  231)  believes  it  to  be  by  a Prophet 

2 2 Kings  iii.  4.  of  Judah,  on  account  of  xvi.  1-5. 

3 It  is  preserved  both  in  Isaiah  and  Still  more  probable  is  the  conjecture 
Jeremiah.  That  it  is  from  an  older  of  Hitzig,  identifying  it  with  the 
prophet  is  distinctly  stated  by  Isaiah  prophecy  of  Jonah  mentioned  in  3 
(xvi.  13),  “ This  is  the  word  that  the  Kings  xiv.  25. 

Lord  spoke  concerning  Moab  long 


38S 


THE  SYRIAN  WARS. 


lect.  xxxm 


at  the  sight,  and  hopes  that,  in  the  old  ancestral  con- 
nection with  the  house  of  David,  Moab  may  yet  be  not 
too  proud  to  seek  a covert  from  the  hice  of  the  spoiler. 

It  may  be  that  this  is  the  very  prophecy  by  which 
^ ^ J eroboam’s  empire  was  inaugurated,  accord- 

“ ing  to  the  word  of  the  Lord,  which  He  spoke 
^^by  the  hand  of  Ilis  servant  Jonah,  the  son  of 
‘^Amittai.”^  This  Prophet,  who  was  to  Jeroboam  II. 
what  Ahijah  had  been  to  Jeroboam  I.,  and  what  Elisha 
had  been  to  Jehu,  thoiigh  slightly  mentioned  in  the 
history,  has  been  already  thrice  brought  before  us  in 
Jewish  tradition,  and  conveys  an  instruction  reaching 
far  beyond  his  times.  The  child  of  the  widow  of 
Zarephath,  the  boy  who  attended  Elijah  to  the  wilder- 
ness, the  youth  who  anointed  Jehu,  was  believed  to 
be  the  same  as  he  whose  story  is  related  to  us  in  the 
book  of  unknown  authorship,  of  unknown  date,  of 
disputed  meaning,^  but  of  surpassing  interest,  — the 
Book  of  Jonah.  Putting  aside  all  that  is  doubtful,  it 
stands  out  of  the  history  of  those  wars  and  conquests 
with  a truthfulness  to  human  nature  and  a loftiness 
of  religious  sentiment  that  more  than  vindicate  its 
place  in  the  Sacred  Canon.  First  look  at  the  vivid 
touches  of  the  narrative  even  in  detail.  We  see  the 
Prophet  hasting  down  from  the  hills  of  Galilee  to  the 
one  Israelite  port  of  Joppa.  He  sinks  into  the  deep 
sleep®  of  the  wearied  traveller  as  soon  as  he  gets  on 
board  after  his  hurried  journey.  The  storm  rises ; the 
Tyrian  sailors  are  all  astir  with  terror  and  activity. 
They  attack  the  unknown  passenger  with  their  brief 

1 2 Kings  xiv.  25.  used  at  the  commencement  of  the 

2 The  word  “And,”  with  which  the  Books  of  Leviticus,  Numbers,  Joshua, 
book  commences,  indicates  a different  Kings,  Ezekiel,  Baruch,  and  Mac- 
origin  from  that  of  the  earlier  Pro-  cabees. 

j)hctical  Books.  It  is  elsewhere  only  3 Jonah  i.  5 (Heb.). 


.Lect.  XXXIII. 


JONAH. 


389 


'^accumulated  inquiries.”  "Why  hath  this  happened 
"to  us?  What  doest  thou?  Whence  art  thou? 
"What  is  thy  country?  Of  what  people  art  thou?”^ 
The  good  seamen,  heathens  as  they  are,  struggle 
against  the  dreadful  necessity  which  Jonah  puts  before 
them.  They  row  with  a force  which  seems  to  dig  up 
the  waves  under  their  efforts.  But  higher  and  higher, 
higher  and  higher,  the  sea  surges  against  them,  like 
a living  creature  gaping  for  its  prey.  The  victim  is 
at  last  thrown  in,  and  its  rage  ceases.^  This  is  the 
first  deliverance,  and  it  is  the  Divine  blessing  on  the 
honest  hearts  and  active  hands  of  "those  that  go 
"down  to  the  sea  in  ships,  and  do  their  business  in 
"great  waters.” 

Then  comes  the  unexpected  rescue  of  the  Prophet. 
He  vanishes  from  view  for  three  long  days  and  nights. 
One  of  the  huge  monsters  which  are  described  in  the 
Psalms^  as  always  sporting  in  the  strange  sea,  and 
which  in  the  early  Christian  paintings  is  represented 
as  a vast  dragon,  receives  him  into  its  capacious  maw. 
His  own  hymn  of  thanksgiving  succeeds.  He  seems 
to  be  in  the  depths  of  the  unseen  world ; the  river  of 
the  ocean  whirls  him  round  in  its  vast  eddies ; the 
masses  of  seaweed  enwrap  him  as  in  grave-clothes ; the 
rocky  roots  of  the  mountains  as  they  descend  into  the 
sea  appear  above  him,  as  if  closing  the  gates  of  earth 
against  his  return.^  The  mighty  fish  is  but  the  transi- 
tory instrument.  That  on  which  the  Prophet  in  his 
hymn  lays  stress  is  not  the  mode  of  his  escape,  but 
the  escape  itself.^ 

* All  this  is  well  brought  out  by  * Jonah  ii.  3,  5,  6. 

Dr  Pusey  on  Jonah,  pp.  251,  252.  5 Unless  we  have  previously  deter- 

2 This  is  well  given  in  Josephus,  mined  the  question,  whether  the  Book 
{Ant.  ix.  10,  § 2).  of  Jonah  is  intended  by  the  sacred 

* Ps.  civ.  26.  writer  to  bo  a literal  history,  or  an 


390 


THE  SYRLVN  WARS. 


LEcr.  XXXIII 


Tlie  third  deliverance  is  that  of  Nineveh.  The  great 
_ , city  rises  before  ns,  most  magnificent  of  all 

Repentance  ^ ^ 

of  Nineveh.  (Ijq  capitals  of  tlio  ancient  world,  — great 
'^even  unto  God.”^  It  included  parks,  and  gardens,  and 
fields,  and  people,  and  cattle,  within  its  vast  circum- 
ference.^ Twenty  miles  the  Prophet  penetrates  into 
the  city.  He  had  still  finished  only  one  third  of  his 
journey  through  it.  His  utterance,  like  that  of  the 
wild  Preacher  in  the  last  days^  of  the  siege  of  Jerusa- 
lem by  Titus,  is  one  piercing  cry,  from  street  to  street 
and  square  to  square.  It  reaches  at  last  the  King  on 
his  throne  of  state.  The  remorse  for  the  wrong  and 
robbery  and  violence  of  many  generations  is  awak- 
ened.^ The  dumb  animals  are  included,  after  the 
fashion  of  the  East,  in  the  universal  mourning,  and 
the  Divine  decree  is  revoked. 

Of  this  revocation,  and  of  the  lessons  of  the  whole 
Repentance  ^ook,  tlie  Concentrated  force  is  contained  in  the 
closing  scene.  The  Prophet  sits  in  his  rude 


Repentan 
of  Jonah. 


apologue  founded  on  a history,  — and 
the  example  of  the  Books  of  Job  and 
Tobit  strongly  leads  to  the  latter  sup- 
position, — “ toia  hcec  de  pisce  Jonce 
disquisitio*"  as  an  old  commentator 
observes,  “ vana  videtur  atque  inu- 
tilis.”  The  explanations  divide  them- 
selves into  those  of  a strictly  pre-^ 
ternatural  kind, — as  that  a fish  was 
created  for  the  occasion  ; or  into  the 
natural  or  semi-natural,  — as  that  it 
was  a ship  or  an  inn  bearing  the  sign 
of  the  whale ; or  that  it  was  a shark 
(For  this  last  hypothesis  see  all  that 
can  be  collected  in  Dr.  Pusey’s  Com- 
mentary on  Jonah.) 

It  is  more  to  the  point  to  observe 
how  little  importance  is  attached  to 
flic  particulars  of  the  incident  by  the 


sacred  narrative.  Jonah’s  psalm  of 
thanksgiving,  whilst  it  contains  the 
most  forcible  description  of  the  escape 
from  drowning  by  shipwreck,  has  no 
allusion  to  the  more  marvellous  escape 
from  suffocation  within  the  belly  of 
the  fish.  Whether  the  story  be  literal 
or  poetical,  it  would  be  equally  ap- 
propriate for  the  use  made  of  it  in 
Matt.  xil.  39  ; Luke  xi.  29.  Josephus 
(Ant.  ix  10,  § 2)  speaks  of  the  trans- 
action as  a “story”  (Aoyof). 

1 Jonah  iii.  3 (Heb.). 

2 See  Layard,  Nineveh  and  Bahp- 
Ion,  640. 

3 See  all  this  drawn  out  at  kngtii 
by  Dr.  Pusey  on  Jonah  iii. 

4 Nahum  ii.  11. 


L»ct.  XXXIII. 


JONAH. 


391 


hut  outside  the  Eastern  gate,  under  the  shade  of  the 
broad  leaves  of  the  flowering  shrub, ^ the  rapid  produce 
of  the  night.  With  the  scorching  blast  of  the  early 
morning  the  luxuriant  shelter  withers  away,  and  in 
his  despairing  faintness  he  receives  the  revelation  of 
the  Divine  character,  which  is  to  him  as  that  of  the 
Burning  Bush  to  Moses,  or  of  the  Vision  on  Horeb  to 
Elijah,  and  which  sums  up  the  whole  of  his  own 
history. 

He  has  been  shown  to  us  as  one  of  the  older  Pro- 
phetic school,  denouncing,  rebuking,  moving  to  and  fro, 
without  fixed  habitation,  like  Elijah,  flying  from  king- 
dom to  kingdom,  as  if  on  the  wings  of  the  wind.  But  • 
both  in  his  weaker  and  his  stronger  side  he  represents 
the  rapid  change  which  came  over  the  Prophetic  school 
of  Israel  at  this  epoch.  In  the  wider  scope  of  his 
movements,  and  the  mild  and  catholic  spirit  which  per- 
vades the  whole  tenor,  if  not  of  his  teaching,  at  least 
of  his  history,  we  trace  the  same  transitions  that  have 
been  already  remarked  from  the  fierce  and  exclusive 
Elijah  to  the  gentle  and  comprehensive  Elisha.  From 
west  and  east  alike  the  curtain  has  in  his  life  been  rent 
asunder.  On  the  one  side  we  have  embarked,  for  the 
first  time  in  the  sacred  history,  on  the  stormy  waters 
of  the  Mediterranean,  in  a ship  bound  for  the  distant 
Tarshish  on  the  coast  of  Spain.  On  the  other  side,  we 
traverse,  for  the  first  time,  the  vast  desert,  and  find 
ourselves  in  the  heart  of  the  great  Assyrian  capital. 
Jonah  is  the  first  apostle,  though  involuntary  and 
unconscious,  of  the  Gentiles.  The  inspiration  of  the 
Gentile  world  is  acknowledged  in  the  prophecy  of 
Balaam,  its  nobleness  in  the  Book  of  J ob,  its  greatness 
bi  the  reign  of  Solomon.  But  its  distinct  claims  on 

1 The  palma  Christi,  or  castor-oil  tree. 


592 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEHU.  - JONAH. 


Lect.  XXXIU 


the  justice  and  mercy  of  God  are  first  recognized  in 
the  Book  of  Jonah.  It  is  the  cry  of  the  good  heathen 
that  causes  the  sea  “ to  cease  from  her  raging.”  It  is 
the  penitence  of  the  vast  population  of  the  heathen 
Nineveh  that  arouses  the  Divine  pity  even  for  the 
innocent  children  and  the  dumb,  helpless  cattle. 

And  this  lesson  is  still  more  forcibly  brought  out  by 
contrast  with  the  conduct  of  tlie  Israelite  Prophet,  in 
whose  timidity  and  selfishness  is  seen  the  same  degen- 
eracy that  has  already  marked  the  descent  from  Elisha 
to  Gehazi.  He,  indeed,  is  delivered,  but  so  as  by  fire.” 
The  tables  are  turned  against  him  with  a sublime  irony 
which  almost  anticipates  the  Gospel  teaching  of  “the 
“ first  and  the  last,”  “ the  Pharisee  and  the  Publican,” 
“the  elder  and  the  younger  son.”  It  is  not  in  his 
strength,  but  his  weakness,  that  the  strength  of  that 
Divine  message  is  perfected,  through  which  a lesson  is 
delivered  to  the  Pastors  of  every  age.  In  the  Prophet’s 
despondency,  which  swerves  aside  from  the  heavy  duty 
imposed  upon  him,  many  a coward  spirit  that  shrinks 
from  the  call  of  truth  and  duty  starts  to  see  its  true 
likeness.  In  the  return  of  the  tempest-tossed  soul, 
de  profiindis,  to  the  task  which  has  now  become  wel- 
come — in  the  long-sustained  effort  to  which  at  last  he 
winds  himself  up,  is  the  same  encouragement  that  was 
needed  even  by  an  Apostle,  — “ Simon,  son  of  Jonas, 
“ lovest  thou  Me  ? ” Venio  iierum  Romam  crucifigL  But 
most  of  all  is  the  warning  thrust  home  in  the  rebuke 
to  the  narrow  selfishness  which  could  lament  over  the 
withering  of  his  own  bower,  and  yet  complain  that  the 
judgment  had  not  been  carried  out  against  the  penitent 
empire  of  Nineveh.  “More  than  sixscore  thousand 
“persons  that  cannot  discern  between  their  right  hand 
“ and  their  left,”  the  Prophet  had  desired  to  see  sacri- 


Lkct.  xxxm. 


HIS  REPENTANCE. 


393 


ficed  to  his  preconceived  notions  of  the  necessities  of 
a logical  theory,  or  to  the  destruction  of  his  country’s 
enemies.  ‘^It  displeased  Jonah  exceedingly,  and  he 
was  very  angry.  1 pray  Thee,  was  not  this  my  say- 
ing  when  I was  yet  in  my  country  ? . . . Therefore 
take,  I beseech  Thee,  my  life  from  me ; for  it  is  better 
for  me  to  die  than  to  live.”  Better  (so  it  has  often 
been  said  by  Jonah’s  successors)  to  die,  than  that 
unbaptized  infants  should  be  saved  — than  that  the 
reprobate  should  repent  — than  that  God’s  threaten- 
ings  should  ever  be  revoked  — than  that  the  solemnity 
of  life  should  be  disturbed  by  the  restoration  of  the 
thousands  who  have  had  no  opportunity  of  knowing 
the  Divine  will  — than  that  God  should  at  last  be  all 
^Gn  all.”  He  sate  under  the  shadow  of  his  booth,  still 
hoping,  believing  for  the  worst,  till  he  might  see  what 
" would  become  of  the  city.” 

Most  just  was  the  application  of  this  passage  by  an 
apostolic  pastor  to  the  harsh  Calvinists  of  the  last  cen- 
tury, — Get  ye  from  under  your  parched  gourd  of  ^ rep- 
^‘robation:’  let  not  your  eye  be  evil  because  God  is 
‘^good;  nor  fret,  like  Jonah,  because  the  Father  of  mer- 
cies  extends  His  compassion  even  to  all  the  humbled 
heathen  of  the  great  city  of  Nineveh.”  ^ And  not  to 
Calvinists  only,  but  to  all  who  would  sacrifice  the  cause 
of  humanity  to  some  professional  or  theological  difficulty 
is  the  startling  truth  addressed,  Doest  thou  well  to  be 
"angry?  God  repented  of  the  evil  that  He  had  said 
" that  He  would  do  unto  them,  and  He  did  it  not.”  The 
foredoomed  destruction  of  the  wicked,  the  logical  con- 
sistency of  the  Prophet’s  teaching,  must  go  for  nothing 
before  the  justice  and  " the  great  kindness  ” of  God  — 
before  the  claims  even  of  the  unconscious  heathen  chil- 

* Fletcher  of  Madeley  {Essay  onTruth)  in  Sermons^u.  552. 


394 


THE  HOUSE  OF  JEHU. —JONAH. 


Lect.  xxxni 


drcn,  of  the  repentant  heathen  king.  Nineveh  shall  be 
spared,  although  the  Prophet  has  declared  that  in  forty 
days  it  shall  be  overthrown.^ 

In  the  scorching  blast  that  beat  upon  the  head  of 
Jonah,  when  he  “ fainted  and  wished  himself  to  die,”  and 
with  a sharp  cry  repeated,  in  the  pangs  of  his  own  desti- 
tution, what  he  had  before  murmured  only  as  a theo- 
logical difficulty,  the  sacred  narrative  leaves  him.  In 
the  popular  traditions  of  East  and  West,  Jonah’s  name 
alone  has  survived  the  Lesser  Prophets  of  the  Jewish 
Church.  It  still  lives,  not  only  in  many  a Mussulman 
tomb  along  the  coasts  and  hills  of  Syria,  but  in  the 
thoughts  and  devotions  of  Christendom.  The  marvel- 
lous escape  from  the  deep,  through  a single  passing 
allusion  in  the  Gospel  history,  was  made  an  emblem  of 
the  deliverance  of  Christ  Himself  from  the  jaws  of  death 
and  the  grave.^  The  great  Christian  doctrine  of  the 
boundless  power  of  human  repentance  received  its  chief 
illustration  from  the  repentance  ^ of  the  Ninevites  at  the 
preaching  of  Jonah.  There  is  hardly  any  figure  from 
the  Old  Testament  which  the  early  Christians  in  the 
Catacombs  so  often  took  as  their  consolation  in  persecu- 
tion as  the  deliverance  of  Jonah  on  the  sea-shore,  and 
his  naked  form  stretched  out  in  the  burning  sun  beneath 

1 How  difficult  It  was  even  in  the  preaching-  of  Jonah),  nor  with  the 

Jewish  Church  to  understand  that  a facts  of  the  case  as  recorded  in  the 
prediction  could  be  frustrated,  ap-  two  (not  three)  days  and  nights  of 
pears  from  the  consequences  drawn  the  Entombment,  nor  with  the  cor- 
in  Tobit  xiv.  4-8,  from  Jonah’s  warn-  responding  passage  of  Luke  (xi.  30). 
ing.  On  the  other  hand,  for  the  true  But,  even  if  (like  Acts  i.  18,  19,  and 
character  of  Prophetic  teaching,  on  Matt,  xxiii.  35)  it  is  a later  addition, 
which  it  is  founded,  see  Lectures  XX.,  it  is  an  interpretation  of  unquestion- 
XL.  able  antiquity,  and  widely  diffused 

2 Matt.  xil.  40.  The  difficulty  of  throughout  the  early  Church. 

this  verse  is  well  known.  It  neither  ^ Matt.  xvi.  4 ; xii.  41  ; Luke  xi 
agrees  with  the  context  (which  speaks  30,  32. 
not  of  the  deliverance,  but  of  the 


Lect.  XXXIII. 


HIS  CHARACTER. 


395 


the  sheltering  gourd.  But  these  all  conspire  with  the 
story  itself  in  proclaiming  that  still  wider  lesson  of 
which  I have  spoken.  It  is  the  rare  protest  of  theology 
against  the  excess  of  theology  — it  is  the  faithful  de- 
lineation, through  all  its  various  states,  of  the  dark, 
sinister,  selfish  side  of  even  great  religious  teachers.  It 
is  the  grand  Biblical  appeal  to  the  common  instincts  of 
humanity,  and  to  the  universal  love  of  God,  against  the 
narrow  dogmatism  of  sectarian  polemics.  There  has 
never  been  a generation  ” which  has  not  needed  the 
majestic  revelation  of  sternness  and  charity,  each  be- 
stowed where  most  deserved  and  where  least  expected, 
in  the  " sign  of  the  Prophet  Jonah.’ ^ 


LECTURE  XXXIV. 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMARIA. 

The  external  glory  of  Israel  was  raised  to  its  highest 
pitch  by  Jeroboam  the  Second ; but  its  internal  condi- 
tion already  indicated  its  approaching  dissolution.  On 
that  condition  a sudden  light  is  thrown  from  a new 
quarter.  We  have  at  last  reached  the  point  where  the 
Prophetical  spirit  began  to  express  itself,  not  only  in 
action  and  speech,  but  in  writing.  It  was  in  the  king- 
dom of  Judah  that  this  development  took  place  in  its 
greatest  force  ; but  it  took  its  rise  in  the  kingdom  of  Is- 
rael, in  which,  so  long  as  it  lasted,  the  Prophets  found 
their  chief  home  and  their  chief  mission.  Amos  and 
Hosea,  both  belong,  by  birth  or  by  their  sphere  of 
action,  to  the  northern  kingdom.  Some  few  glimpses, 
too,  into  the  state  of  Israel  are  afforded  by  the  great 
Isaiah,  now  just  appearing  as  a young  man  in  the  neigh- 
boring kingdom  of  Judah. 

It  is  from  these  several  prophetic  documents  that  we 
arrive  at  a knowledge  of  the  state  of  society  in  Israel, 
such  as  we  have  not  obtained  of  any  period  since  the 
time  of  David.  Their  whole  tone  is  so  true  to  nature, 
so  descriptive  of  the  sins  of  actual  States  and  Churches, 
that  when  the  preacher,  who  of  all  perhaps  in  modern 
times  has  most  nearly  resembled  an  ancient  Prophet, 
wished  to  denounce  the  sins  of  Florence,  he  used  the 
Prophets  of  this  period  as  his  text-book.  Savonarola’s 


Lect.  XXXIV. 


MORAL  STATE  OF  SAMARIA. 


397 


sermons  on  Amos  are  almost  like  Amos  himself  come  to 
life  again. 

The  foreign  civilization  of  the  house  of  Omri  — the 
long  depravation  of  the  public  worship  from  Moral  state 
the  time  of  Jeroboam  the  First — had  produced  Samana. 
their  natural  effect  amongst  the  higher  classes  of  society. 
One  of  the  most  widely  spread  vices  was  drunkenness  in 
its  most  revolting  forms.  Wine  and  new  wine  take 
"away  the  heart.” ^ "In  the  day  of  our  King  the 
" princes  have  made  him  sick  with  skins  of  wine.”  ^ 
This  was  the  canker  in  the  beauty  of  the  most  glorious 
scene  in  Palestine, — the  luxuriant  vale  of  Shechem,  and 
the  green  hill  of  Samaria.®  The  gross  intoxication  of 
the  Israelite  nobles  and  priests  almost  resembles  that 
which  unhappily  prevailed  amongst  the  English  aris- 
tocracy and  clergy  in  the  last  century.  It  extended  even 
to  the  most  sacred  functionaries : " They  have  erred 
" through  wine,  and  through  strong  drink  are  gone  out 
"of  the  way;  the  priest  and  the  prophet  have  erred 
"through  strong  drink,  they  are  swallowed  up  by  wine, 
" they  are  out  of  the  way  through  strong  drink  ; they 
" err  in  vision,  they  stumble  in  giving  judgment ; for  all 
" tables  are  full  of  vomit  and  filthiness,  so  that  there  is 
" no  plane  clean.”  ^ Even  the  monastic  Nazarites  were 
either  required  or  forced  against  their  vow  to  drink  the 
forbidden  wine.^  Great  ladies,  who  are  compared  to  the 
fat  cows  or  heifers  of  Bashan,  that  feed  on  the  rich 
mountains  of  Samaria,  say  to  their  lords,  " Bring,  and  let 
"us  drink.”®  Out  of  this  terrible  vice  sprang  a brood 
of  other  yet  more  desolating  sins,  — licentiousness  ^ in 

1 Hosea  iv.  11.  Isaiah  xxviii.  7,  8. 

2 Ibid.  vii.  5.  . 5 Amos  ii.  8,  12  (Pusey). 

3 Isaiah  xxviii.  1.  “Woe  to  the  6 Ibid.  iv.  1,  2 (Pusey). 

:rown  of  pride,  to  the  drunkards  of  Hosea  iv.  13;  vii.  4 ; Amos  ii.  7 
Ephraim.” 


398 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMAEIA. 


Lect.  XXXIV. 


all  its  forms,  oppression  of  the  poor,  selfindiilgenl 
luxury,  robbery  and  murder.  To  the  eye  of  the 
Prophet  these  it  was,  and  nothing  else,  which  he  saw, 
wherever  he  looked,  whatever  he  heard,  — swearing, 
‘^ying,  killing,  stealing,  adultery,”  one  stream  of  blood 
meeting  another,  till  they  joined  in  one  wide  inun- 
dation.”  ^ Many  of  the  details  are  preserved  to  us. 
Innocent  debtors  were  bought  and  sold  as  slaves,  even 
for  the  sake  of  possessing  a pair  of  costly  sandals.  The 
very  dust  which  tliey  threw  on  their  heads  as  a sign  of 
mourning  was  grudged  to  them.  The  large  cloaks 
which  were  their  only  wrappers  were  used  for  the 
couches  of  the  hard-hearted  creditors.^  Strict  as  was  still 
the  profession  of  religion,  — holy  days,  offerings,  tithes, 
sabbaths  faithfully  observed^  — Priests,  Prophets,  Naza- 
rites  highly  honored  ^ — sacred  ephod  and  image  duly 
reverenced,^  — yet  even  in  the  very  Temple  of  Bethel 
the  luxurious,  listless  revelry  was  carried  on;®  pilgrims 
coming  to  the  sacred  places  at  Mizpeh  and  Gilead  be- 
yond the  Jordan,  or  to  Tabor  and  Shechem,  in  the  heart 
of  the  kingdom,  were  attacked  by  bands  of  robbers,  often 
headed  by  the  Priests  themselves.^  Even  the  Jewish” 
craft,  as  we  deem  it  in  modern  times,  appeared  in  the 
readiness  with  which  religious  festivals  were  pressed  into 
the  service  of  hard  bargains.  The  calf  was  still  wor- 
shipped, as  the  sign  of  the  True  God,®  at  Dan  and 
Bethel,  but  the  darker  idolatries  of  Phoenicia,  author- 
ized there  also  under  Ahab,  had  been  never  entirely 
uprooted.  The  Temple  of  Ashtaroth  still  remained  in 
Samaria.®  Baal  was  a familiar  name  throughout  the 

1 Amos  iv.  1,  2 (Pusey).  ^ Hosea  iii.  4 (Ewald). 

2 Ibid.  ii.  6,  7 ; viii.  5,  6 (Pusey).  ® Amos  ii.  8. 

3 Hosea  ii.  11 ; viii.  13;  Amos  iv.  ' Hosea  v.  1 ; vi.  8,  9. 

4 ; V.  21-23.  8 Ibid.  viii.  5,  6 ; x.  5 ; xi.  1. 

4 Amos  ii.  11.  ^ 2 Kings  xiii.  6. 


L»ct.  XXXIV. 


AMOS. 


399 


country.^  Licentious  rites  were  practised  in  the  groves 
and  on  the  hill-tops.^  The  ancient  sanctuary  of  Gilgal 
was  at  once  a seat  of  constant  pilgrimage,  surrounded 
by  altars,  and  yet  also  a centre  of  wide-spread  heathen 
abominations.^ 

As  the  rise  of  the  house  of  Jehu  had  been  ushered 
in  by  Prophetic  voices,  so  was  its  doom.  As  in  the 
struggles  of  the  earlier  Jeroboam,  so  in  the  splendor 
of  the  second  Jeroboam,  a Prophet  from  Judah  came 
to  denounce  the  crimes  of  Israel.  He  was  of  no 
Prophetic  school,  with  no  regular  Prophetic  gifts,^  — 
one  of  the  shepherds  who  frequented  the  wild  uplands 
near  Tekoa,  and  who  combined  with  his  pastoral  life 
the  care  of  the  sycamores  in  the  neighboring  ^ 
gardens.  He  was,  as  has  been  well  said,^  ^^a 

child  of  nature.”  The  imagery  of  his  visions  is  full 
of  his  country  life,  whether  in  Judea  or  Ephraim.  The 
locusts  in  the  royal  meadows,  the  basket  of  fruit,  vine- 
yards and  fig-trees,  the  herds  of  cows  rushing  heed- 
lessly along  the  hills  of  Samaria,  the  shepherds  fight- 
ing with  the  lions  for  their  prey,  the  lion  and  the  bear, 
the  heavy-laden  wagon,  the  sifting  of  corn,  — these 
are  his  figures.  He  was  not  a poet,  so  much  as  an 
orator.  His  addresses  are  poetical,  not  from  rhythm, 
but  from  the  sheer  force  and  pathos  of  his  diction.  He 
appears  on  the  hill  of  Samaria  ® to  denounce  the  luxu- 
rious nobles.  He  appears  in  the  very  sanctuary  of 
Bethel,  like  Iddo,  to  predict^  the  violent  death  of  the 

1 Hosea  ii.  8-17  ; xi.  2.  7 Ibid.  vi.  14 ; vii.  9;  ix.  1 ; viii.  3. 

2 Ibid.  iv.  13.  Whether  the  words  in  vii.  10  are  rep- 

3 Ibid.  iv.  1.5;  ix.  15;  xii.  11;  resented  as  having  been  spoken  by 

&.mos  iv.  4.  Amos,  or  only  put  into  his  mouth  by 

* Amos  i.  1 ; vii.  14,  15.  Amaziah,  is  uncertain.  It  is  more  in 

* Dr.  Pusey  on  Amos,  pp.  151,  153.  accordance  with  the  style  of  the 

* Amos  iv.  1 • iii.  9 (Pusey,  p.  148).  Sacred  Books  to  suppose  the  former. 


400 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMARIA. 


Lect.  XXXIV 


royal  house,  if  not  of  the  King,  — the  fall  of  the  king- 
dom, the  fall  of  the  sacred  altar.  It  was  not  now,  as 
formerly,  the  King  who  confronted  the  Prophet.  It 
was  the  chief-priest  Amaziah,  who  sent  to  the  King  to 
inform  him  of  the  new-comer,  and  himself  warned 
him  off  the  sacred  and  royal  precincts.  He  was  living 
there  with  his  wife,  his  sons  and  his  daughters,  and 
on  them  Amos  turned  the  curse  which  he  had  before 
called  down  on  the  nation.  Such  an  apparition  may 
well  have  roused  the  anger  and  alarm  of  the  easy 
revellers  ^^who  put  far  away^  the  evil  day.”  ^‘The 
^^land  could  not  bear”^  those  piercing  moral  invec- 
tives — that  cry  then  first  uttered,  a hundred  times 
repeated  since,  ‘^Prepare  to  meet  thy  God.”®  Whether 
or  not  we  attach  any  credence  to  the  tradition,  that 
he  was  beaten  and  wounded  by  the  indignant  hierarchy 
of  Bethel,  and  carried  back  half-dead  to  his  native 
place,  it  is  the  fate  which  such  a rough  plain-spokeri 
preacher  would  naturally  invite,  and  it  would  almost 
seem  as  if  faint  allusions  to  it  transpire  in  more  than 
one  place  in  the  New  Testament.^  Well  had  he  said, 
in  the  bitterness  of  his  heart,  The  prudent  shall  keep 
‘‘silence  in  that  time,  for  it  is  an  evil  time.”® 

The  calamities  which  Amos  described  or  invoked, 
gathered  fast  over  the  devoted  kingdom.  The 

Calamities:  ^ i i t i • i i n i 

great  physical  disasters,  which  we  shall  have 
to  consider  more  at  length  in  their  relation  to  Judah, 
had  also  extended  to  Israel.  The  visitation 
of  locusts,  which  passed  over  the  south,  also 
reached  to  the  gardens  and  vineyards,  the  fig-trees  and 
olive-trees  of  Samaria.®  Their  corn  and  wine  failed ; ’ 

1 Amos  vi.  3.  ii.  145  (Pusey,  150).  Compare  Hcb. 

2 Ibid.  vii.  10.  xi.  35  ; Matt.  xxi.  35. 

® Ibid.  iv.  12.  5 Amos  v.  13. 

* Pseudo-Epiphanius,  Vit.  Proph.  Ibid.  iv.  6. 

Hosea  ii.  9 ; vii.  14. 


L»ct.  XXXIV. 


ASSYRIA. 


401 


blasting  and  mildew  smote  them  ; ^ drought  and  famine 
fell  upon  them.  Rain  was  withholden  in  the  early 
spring,  or  fell  partially  only  on  one  city ; so  that  the 
inhabitants  of  two  or  three  cities  crowded  to  one  for 
the  sake  of  water.^  The  pastures  of  the  shepherds  were 
dried  up,  and  the  woods  of  Carmel  withered.^ 

mi  1 • T?  + • Plague, 

ihe  plague,  so  common  in  JLgypt,  so  rare  m 
Palestine,  sprang  up,  amidst  the  festering  carcasses 
(whether  as  cause  or  effect)  of  the  dead  men  and  dead 
horses  which  lay  around,  as  after  a terrible  carnage.^ 
The  celebrated  earthquake  which  shook  the 
Temple  of  Jerusalem  and  the  Mount  of  Olives 
in  the  reign  of  Uzziah  was  heard  and  felt  throughout 
Palestine.  The  Temple  at  Bethel,  like  the  Temple  at 
Jerusalem,  with  its  altar  and  its  pillars,  the  ivory 
palaces  of  Jezreel  and  Samaria,  are  smitten,”  shake,” 
“ fall,”  and  perish,  and  come  to  an  end.”  ® There  were 
three  nearly  total  eclipses  during  this  period.  One  of 
these  was  visible  in  Palestine,  in  the  year  b.  c.  771, 
on  the  8th  of  November,  at  five  minutes  before  one 
p.  M.®  This  may  have  been  sufficient  to  have  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  Prophet : “ I will  cause  the  sun 
‘Ho  go  down  at  noon,  and  I will  darken  the  earth  in 
“ the  clear  day.”  ^ 

But  these  were  forerunners  of  a still  more  fearful 
calamity.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  appeared  on 
the  Eastern  horizon  that  great  power  which  for 
a hundred  years  was  the  scourge  of  Asia.  The  ancient 
empire  of  Assyria,  possibly  repressed  for  the  time  by 

1 Amos  iv.  7,  9.  6 The  exact  calculation  I owe  to 

2 Ibid.  iv.  9.  my  friend  Professor  Donkin.  The 

3 Ibid.  i.  2.  possibility  of  the  allusion  had  been 

< Ibid.  iv.  10.  already  noticed  by  Ussher. 

5 Ibid.  iii.  14,  15;  ix.  1.  See  Lee-  7 Amos  viii.  9. 
inre  XXXVII. 


TOL.  II. 


26 


4C2 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMARIA. 


Leot.  XXXJV 


the  dominion  of  Solomon,  rose  on  its  fall,  and  was 
henceforth  intermingled  with  all  the  good  and  evil  for- 
tunes of  the  kingdom  of  Israel.  Already  in  the  reign 
of  Jehu  her  influence  began  to  be  felt.  His  name  is 
to  be  read  on  the  black  obelisk  which  records  the 
tributes  offered  to  Shalmaneser  I.  in  the  form  of  gold 
and  silver,  and  articles  manufactured  in  gold.’  The 
destruction  of  Damascus  by  Jeroboam  II.  brought  the 
two  powers  of  Israel  and  Assyria  into  close  contact ; 
there  was  no^v  no  intervening  kingdom  to  act  as  a 
breakwater.  Long  before  its  actual  irruption,  the  rise 
of  the  new  power  is  noted  by  the  Prophets.  Jonah 
had  already  traversed  the  desert,  and  seen  that  great 
Nineveh.”  Amos  had  already,  though  without  naming 
it,  foretold  that  a people  should  arise  which  should 
crush  the  powerful  empire  of  Jeroboam  from  end  to 
end,  and  sees  the  nations  one  by  one  swept  into  cap- 
tivity.^ Ilosea  brings  out  the  danger  more  definitely 
sometimes  naming  it,  sometimes  speaking  of  it  only 
under  the  form  of  the  contentious  king.”  ^ The  wake- 
ful ear  of  Isaiah  catches  the  sound  of  the  irresistible 
advance  of  the  Assyrian  armies ; their  savage  warfare, 
their  strange  language,  the  speed  of  their  march,  their 
indefatigable  energy,  their  arrows  sharp,  their  bows 
bent,  their  horses’  hoofs  like  flint,  and  their  chariots 
“ like  a whirlwind.”  ^ 

In  the  midst  of  these  dark  misfortunes  and  darker 
End  of  the  terrors,  the  dynasty  of  Jehu  came  to  its  end. 

The  curse  of  Amos  was  fulfilled,  though  not 
on  the  King  himself  The  great  Jeroboam  died  in 

1 Layard’s  Nineveh  and  Babylon^  predictions  is  maintained  by  Ewald, 
p.  613  ; sec  Rawlinson’s  Ancient  Mon-  Gesch.  iii.  p.  303. 

archies^  il.  p.  365.  3 Hosea  v.  13  ; x.  6. 

2 Amos  i.  2-15;  vi.  14;  vii.  17;  4 Isa.  v.  26-30. 

ix.  7-10.  That  these  are  distinct 


Lbct.  XXXIV. 


END  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  JEHU. 


403 


peace,  and  was  buried  in  royal  state.  But  his  son  was 
the  last  regular  occupant  of  the  throne  of  Israel. 
There  was,  as  it  would  seem,  a revel  prepared  for  him 
by  the  nobles.  They  were  kept  up  to  the  mark  as  of 
a burning  fever  by  some  one  powerful  plotter,  who 
is  compared  to  a baker  heating  and  stirring  the  oven. 
They  drug  the  unhappy  prince  with  wine  till  he  is 
sick  with  drunkenness,  and  joins  freely  in  their  de- 
bauchery. Then  in  the  morning  the  conspiracy  breaks 
out,  and  the  King  is  slain.^  The  year  of 
Zachariah’s  death  was  probably  the  year  of 
the  great  eclipse  already  mentioned.  The  time  at 
which  he  died  was  known  as  that  in  which  the  kings 
^^fell,”^  and  apparently  also  as  the  month  in  which 
the  three  shepherds  were  smitten.”^  From  that 
moment  the  kingdom  was  occupied  by  a rapid  suc- 
cession of  fierce  soldiers,  who  reigned  for  the  next 
fifty  years,  leaving  little  but  their  names  behind.  The 
military  despotism,”  which  had  characterized  the 
kingdom  of  Israel  more  or  less  even  from  the  time 
of  Saul,  now  held  unbridled  and  undivided  sway. 
Zachariah  was,  it  would  seem,  succeeded  by  a king 
whose  very  name  is  almost  lost  to  us,  Kobolam,^  and 
Kobolam  was  succeeded  by  Shallum.  The  troubled 
monarchy  settled  down  for  a time  under  Menahem 
and  his  son  Pekahiah,  till  he  too  perished,  in  the  midst 
of  his  harem,  by  the  hand  of  Pekah.^  By  this  time 
the  Assyrian  conquerors  broke  upon  the  country ; and 
the  struggles  of  the  various  states  of  Western  Asia, 
in  their  agony  to  escape  from  this  overwhelming 
enemy,  became  more  and  more  complicated,  as  the 
danger  drew  nearer  and  nearer. 

1 Hoseavii.  5-7  (Pusey).  ^ 2 Kings  xv.  10  (LXX.  and 

9 Ibid.  vii.  7.  Ewald,  iii.  598). 

3 Zech.  XI.  8.  5 Ibid.  xv.  13-31 


41)4 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMARIA. 


Lecf  XXXIV 


In  the  presence  of  this  threatened  destruction,  the 
3 0.757-  long  feud  between  Israel  and  Damascus  was 
reconciled.  An  adventurer  who  had  placed 
himself  on  the  throne  of  Syria  combined  with  Pekah  to 
defend  themselves  against  Assyria  by  attacking  Judah.^ 
The  effect  of  this  alliance,  as  regards  the  kingdom  of 
Israel,  was  but  to  hasten  its  doom.  In  a few  short  years  ^ 
it  was  broken  up.  Tiglath-Pileser,  the  Assyrian  king, 
whose  predecessor,  Pul,^  had  been  satisfied  with  tribute 
from  Menahem,  descended  upon  the  allied  kingdoms. 
The  kingdom  of  Damascus  ^ was  now  finally  extin- 
guished, and  its  inhabitants  carried  off  to  Kir,®  an  un- 
known Eastern  spot,  the  cradle,  and  now  the  grave,  of 
that  proud  Aramaic  nation. 

And  now  the  first  great  rent  was  made  in  the  king- 
Faii  of  the  dom  of  Israel.  The  trans-Jordanic  tribes  had 
danic  tribes.  long  hung  but  loosely  on  its  skirts.  Uzziah, 
King  of  Judah,  had  of  late  acquired  royal  pasturages 
in  the  downs®  of  Gilead.  But  now  they  were  to  lose 
even  this  protection.  We  see  little  of  their  last  expiring 
struggles.  But  their  wild  history  ends,  as  it  had  begun, 
in  bloodshed  and  violence : Gilead  was  a city  of  evil- 

doers,  polluted  with  blood.”  ^ Now  for  the  first  time, 
just  in  the  very  crisis  of  their  own  fate,  they  were  in 
possession  of  the  throne.  Menahem  and  Pekahiah  were, 
perhaps,  from  the  tribe  of  Gad,  and  they  carried  with 
them  the  savage  customs®  which  they  had  learned,  es- 

1 2 Kings  xvi.  5 ; 2 Chr.  xxviii.  Pileser’s  inscriptions  (Rawlinson,  ii. 

5,  6.  398). 

2 Isa.  vii.  16.  ^2  Kings  xvi.  9 ; Amos  i.  5 ; and 

3 Pul  cannot  be  exactly  identified  see  Isa.  vii.  1,  2 ; 1 Chr.  v.  26  ; Hosea 
(Rawlinson,  Ancient  Monarchies^  ii.  x.  7 ; Zech.  ix.  1. 

387).  Tiglath-Pileser  II.  seems  to  be  ® 2 Chr.  xxvi.  10  (“the  plains,” 
the  founder  of  a new  dynasty  (Ibid.  Heb.  mishor'). 
i 393).  Hos.  vi.  8. 

♦ This  is  mentioned  in  Tiglath-  ® 2 Kings  xv.  16.  Compare  Ibid 

Yiii.  12  ; 1 Sara.  xi.  2 ; Amos  i.  13. 


Lect.  XXXIV.  FALL  OF  THE  TRANS-JORDANIC  TRIBES.  405 

pecially  from  the  ferocious  wars  of  Syria  and  Ammon, 
in  their  own  trans-Jordanic  districts.  Pekah,  who  over- 
threw this  dynasty,  was  himself  also  probably  from  the 
same  region.  At  least,  his  fifty  companions  in  the  con- 
spiracy were  from  Gilead,^  and  two  of  them  bore  names 
which  carry  us  back  to  the  earliest  days  of  those  pas- 
toral regions : Argob,  from  the  fastness  of  Bashan,  — 
Arieh,  the  Lion-like,”  from  those  Gadite  chiefs  of  old, 
whose  faces  ^^were  as  the  faces  of  lions,”  ^ — remnants, 
it  may  be,  of  the  original  guards  of  David.^  Of  one  or 
other  of  these  pastoral  kings,  the  unknown  Prophet, 
whose  flickering  light  alone  guides  us  through  these 
stormy  times,  speaks  as  of  the  careless  and  rapacious 
shepherd  who  neglects  the  flock,  and  grasps  only  at  the 
flesh  of  the  fat.^  Of  one  or  other  too,  as  the  fall  of  the 
dynasty  approaches,  he  bursts  forth  into  the  cry  which 
afterwards  became  proverbial,  but  which  had  a peculiar 
fitness  to  those  nomadic  chiefs : ^^Awake,  0 sword, 

against  My  shepherd  . . . smite  the  shepherd,  and  the 
sheep  shall  be  scattered.”  ^ 

Nothing  now  intervened  to  save  from  the  destroying 
armies  those  outlying  portions  of  the  dominions  of 
Israel.  The  gates  of  Lebanon  were  thrown  wide  open 
— the  forests  of  Bashan  howled  in  their  anguish,  as  the 
destroyer  swept  through  them,  and  their  cry  of  distress 
was  echoed  bade  by  the  shepherds  in  their  oaken  glades 
and  by  the  lions  startled  in  their  lairs  down  in  the  deep 
recesses  of  the  Jordan  valley.^ 

Then  fell  the  grievous  affliction  on  the  land  of  Zeb- 
ulun  and  the  land  of  Naphtali,”  the  Sea  of  Galilee 
*^and  beyond  Jordan”’  — a darkness  only  to  be  lit  up 

1 2 Kings  XV.  25.  5 Zech.  xiii.  7. 

2 1 Clir.  xii.  8.  6 Ibid.  xi.  1-3. 

3 Ibid.  xxvi.  31,  32.  7 Jga.  ix.  1. 

4 Zech.  xi.  16. 


406 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMARIA. 


Lkct.  XXXIV 


by  a distant  gleam,  seen  far  off  by  Prophetic  eyes. 
Then  the  hostile  Ammonites,  long  warded  off,  rnshed 
into  the  vacant  space,  and  the  cry  went  np : Hath 

“ Israel  no  sons  ? Hath  he  no  heir  ? ^yhy  doth  Molech 
‘^inherit  Gad,  and  his  people  dwell  in  his  cities?”^ 
^^Feed  them”  — so  the  last  reminiscence  of  their  pas- 
toral state  expresses  itself — ^feed  them;  guide  them 
like  a flock  of  their  own  sheep,  in  Bashan  and  in  Gilead, 
‘^as  in  the  days  of  old.”^ 

Pekah  was  now  left  with  a mere  fragment  of  the 
ancient  kingdom.  With  that  terrible  succession  of  royal 
murders,  so  forcibly  described  as  blood  touching  blood,” 
he  fell  before  a conspiracy,^  a band  of  conspirators, 
of  whom  the  chief,  Hoshea,  formerly  one  of  his  own 
adherents,^  mounted  the  throne.  Rival  factions,  like 
those  which  divided  Jerusalem  in  its  last  sie^e, 

B.  c.  730.  ^ ^ 

troubled  also  the  last  days  of  Samaria : the  old 
feud  between  Ephraim  and  Manasseh,  which  had  in  the 
time  of  Jephthah  given  birth  to  the  symbol  of  all  party 
watchwords,  broke  out  afresh  — Ephraim  devoured 
Manasseh,  and  Manasseh  devoured  Ephraim.® 

Better  than  his  predecessors,® — like  Josiah,  in  like 
case,  in  Judah, — Hoshea  came  too  late  to  re- 
deem the  fortunes  of  his  country.  At  first  the 
vassal  of  Assyria,  he  took  advantage  of  the  Tyrian  war 
to  throw  off  Shalmaneser’s  yoke,^  and  began  that  sys- 
tem of  alliances  with  Egypt,®  which  from  that  time  for- 
ward was  the  last  desperate  resource  of  the  nations  of 


1 Jer.  xlix.  1. 

2 Micah  vii.  14. 

3 2 Kings  XV.  30. 

^ Joseph.  Ant.  ix.  13,  § 1. 

* See  Lecture  XVI.  Isa.  ix.  20, 

n. 

® 2 Kings  xvii.  2. 

’ Shalmaneser  is  an  ancient  Assyr- 


ian title ; but  no  such  name  occurs 
in  the  inscriptions  of  this  epoch.  It 
is  found,  however,  in  the  Tyrian  his- 
tory of  Menander  (Joseph.  Ant.  ix 
14,  § 2;  Rawlinson,  ii.  401).  For 
the  Tyrian  war,  see  Ewald,  iii.  608. 

8 2 Kings  xvii.  4. 


Lbct.  XXXIV. 


HOSHEA. 


407 


Western  Asia  against  the  encroachments  of  Assyria.  It 
might  have  seemed  as  if  the  old  alliance  with  Eg}rpt, 
which  had  set  the  founder  of  the  northern  kingdom  on 
his  throne,  would  support  his  last  successor.  But  it  was 
too  late.  Sargon/  the  Assyrian  king  or  general,  de- 
scended on  the  country.  Hoshea  was  carried  off  as  a 
hostage  for  the  payment  of  the  tribute.^  It  was  a sud- 
den disappearance,  ^^like  foam  upon  the  water.”®  Then 
the  Assyrian  armies  poured  into  the  country.^ 

A struggle  took  place  in  Galilee — perhaps  in  the 
fatal  field  of  Jezreel,^  perhaps  in  the  deep  capture  of 
glen  of  Beth-arbel,®  where,  as  afterwards  in  the 
time  of  Josephus,  the  Iraelite  population  took  refuge  in 
the  caves  in  the  precipitous  cliffs,  and  mothers  and 
children  were  dashed  down  to  the  valley  be- 

^ B.  c.  721. 

neath.  The  siege  of  Samaria  followed.  With- 
out their  king,  the  people  stood  at  bay  for  three  years, 
as  in  the  final  siege  of  Jerusalem.  As  the  end  drew 
near,  they  gave  themselves  up  to  the  frantic  revel- 
lings  of  despair.’  At  last  the  city  was  stormed.  With 
the  ferocity  common  to  all  the  warfare  of  those  times, 
the  infants  were  hurled  down  the  rocky  sides  of  the 
hill  on  which  the  city  stood,  or  destroyed  in  their 
mothers’  bosoms.®  Famine  and  pestilence  completed 
the  work  of  war.®  The  stones  of  the  ruined  city  were 


1 Not  Shalmaneser  (who  is  not  ex- 
pressly mentioned ; see  2 Kings  xvii. 
6 ; xviii.  10)  but  Sargon,  whose  name 
oceurs  in  Isa.  xx.  1,  and  in  the  Assyr- 
ian inscriptions,  and  is  supposed  to  be 
a founder  of  a new  dynasty  (Rawlin- 
•on,  ii.  408). 

2 2 Kings  xvii.  4. 

3 Ilosea  X.  7. 

4 2 Kings  xvii.  5. 

5 Hosea  i.  5. 

• Ibid.  X.  14.  See  Newman’s 


Hebrew  Monarchy^  273.  Compare 
Josephus,  B.  J.u  16  ; Dr.  Pusey  sup- 
poses it  to  be  Arhela^  in  the  plain 
of  Esdraelon ; but  the  expressions 
rather  point  to  a fastness.  The  LXX. 
reads  “ the  house  of  Jeroboam  ” — 
the  Vulgate,  “ the  house  of  Jerub- 
baal”  (Gideon). 

7 Isa.  xxviii.  1-6. 

8 Hosea  x.  14  ; xiii.  16. 

8 Amos  vi.  9,  10. 


408 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMARIA. 


Lect.  XXXIV 


poured  down  into  the  rich  valley  below,  and  the  foun- 
dations were  laid  bare.^  Palace  and  hovel  alike  fell;^ 
the  statues  were  broken  to  pieces  the  crown  of  pride? 
the  glory  of  Ephraim,  was  trodden  under  foot.^ 

In  the  midst  of  this  wild  catastrophe,  the  voices  of 
the  Prophets  rise,  alternately  in  lamentation  and  con- 
solation. From  the  prophets  of  Israel  — from  the  seven 
thousand  of  Elijah’s  vision  — two  voices  especially  make 
themselves  heard  above  the  rest.  One  is  the  author  of 
the  80th  Psalm.^  The  Divine  protection  is  invoked  un- 
der the  figure  that  the  unknown  Prophet  of  the  period 
has  so  often  used : 0 Thou  that  art  the  Shepherd 

of  Israel,  give  ear ; Thou  that  leadest  Joseph  like  a 
sheep.”®  There  is  no  mention  of  Judah  — only  the 
days  are  recalled  in  which  the  Ark  marched  ^ in  the 
wilderness  before  the  three  great  kindred  tribes  of 
Ephraim,  Benjamin,  and  Manasseh!'  That  goodly  vine 
of  the  house  of  Joseph,  which  hung®  over  the  valley  of 
Shechem,  which  had  been  twice  ^ over  brought  from 
Egypt  — which  cast  its  shade  on  the  mountains  of  Geri- 
zim,  and  spread  its  branches  to  the  sea,  visible  from 
those  very  heights,  and  its  boughs  across  the  Jordan  to 
the  distant  Euphrates  — was  now  trodden  down.  The 
wild  Assyrian  boar  had  trampled  it  under  foot ; it  was 
burnt  with  fire : 0 God  of  Hosts,  turn  and  visit  this 

vine,  which  Thy  right  hand  hath  planted,  the  branch 
that  Thou  madest  so  strong  for  Thyself”  Often 
has  this  Psalm  ministered  to  the  encouragement  of 


1 Micah  i.  6. 

2 Amos  vi.  11. 

3 Micah  i.  7. 

4 Isa.  xxvili.  3. 

5 See  Hengstenberg  on  Ps.  Ixxx. 
The  LXX.  calls  it  tov  *ka(Tv- 

MOV. 


6 Ps.  Ixxx.  1.  Compare  Zech.  xi. 
3,  5,  8,  15,  16 ; xiii.  7. 

7 Compare  Num.  ii.  18-24. 

8 For  the  vine  as  symbolical  of 
Joseph,  comp.  Gen.  xlix.  22 ; Ezek, 
xix.  10. 

* Josh.  xxiv.  32;  1 Kings  xii.  2. 


Lkct.  XXXIV. 


HOSEA. 


409 


broken  hopes, ^ but  never  so  fitly  as  in  this  its  first 
application. 

The  Prophet  Hosea  is  the  only  individual  character 
that  stands  out  amidst  the  darkness  of  this 
period,  — the  Jeremiah,  as  he  may  be  called,  of 
Israel.  His  life  had  extended  over  nearly  the  whole  of 
the  last  century  of  the  northern  kingdom.  In  early 
youth,  whilst  the  great  Jeroboam  was  still  on  the  throne, 
he  had  been  called  to  the  Prophetic  office.  In  his  own 
personal  history,  he  shared  in  the  misery  brought  on  his 
country  by  the  profligacy  of  the  age.  In  early  youth, 
he  had  been  united  in  marriage  with  a woman  who  had 
fallen  into  the  vices  which  surrounded  her.  He  had 
loved  her  with  a tender  love ; she  had  borne  to  him  two 
sons  and  a daughter : she  had  then  deserted  him,  wan- 
dered from  her  home,  fallen  again  into  wild  licentious- 
ness, and  been  carried  off  as  a slave.  From  this 
wretched  state,  with  all  the  tenderness  of  his  nature,  he 
bought  her,  and  gave  her  one  more  chance  of  recovery 
by  living  with  him,  though  apart.^  No  one  who  has 
observed  the  manner  in  which  individual  experience 
often  colors  the  general  religious  doctrine  of  a gifted 
teacher,  can  be  surprised  at  the  close  connection  which 
exists  between  the  life  of  Hosea  and  the  mission  to 
which  he  was  called.  In  his  own  grief  for  his  own  great 
calamity,  — the  greatest  that  can  befall  a tender  human 
soul,  — he  was  taught  to  feel  for  the  Divine  grief  over 
the  lost  opportunities  of  the  nation  once  so  full  of  hope. 
It  is,  as  it  has  been  beautifully  described,  a succession 
of  sighs,  — a Prophetic  voice  from  the  depth  of  human 
misery : The  words  of  upbraiding,  of  judgment,  of  woe, 

1 As  applied  by  Gundulph  of  2 Hosea  i.  3;  Hi.  1 (Ewald;  Pusey, 
Rochester;  Fleming,  founder  of  Lin-  and  see  Professor  Plumptre’s  poeisir 
coin  College,  Oxford.  on  Gomer). 


410 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMARIA. 


Lect.  XXXIV 


‘‘burst  out  one  by  one,  slowly,  heavily,  condensed, 
“abrupt,  from  the  Prophet’s  heavy  and  shrinking  soul, 
“ as  though  each  sentence  burst  with  a groan  from 
“ his  heart,  and  he  had  anew  to  take  breath,  before  he 
“ uttered  each  repeated  woe.  Each  verse  forms  a whole 
“for  itself,  like  one  heavy  toll  in  a funeral  knell.”  ^ But 
in  his  own  love  no  less  lie  was  taught  to  see,  first  of  any 
of  the  Prophets  of  the  Old  Dispensation,  the  power  of 
the  forgiving  love  of  God.  Even  the  names  of  his 
children  were  intended  to  signify  — one,  the  condemna- 
tion of  Jehu’s  massacres ; the  two  others,  the  extension 
of  the  Holy  Land  and  the  Divine  Mercy,  beyond  the 
limits  ^ of  Israel.  “ Come,  and  let  us  return  unto  the 
“ Lord,  for  He  hath  torn  and  will  heal  us,  hath  smitten 
“ and  will  bind  us  up.  After  two  days  He  will  revive 
“ us ; on  the  third  day.  He  will  raise  us  up,  and  we  shall 
“ live  in  His  sight.”  ^ He  goes  back  to  the  early  history 
of  his  own  northern  tribes,  when  they  were  still  loved 
as  children  ^ — fresh  from  Egypt  — taken  by  their  little 
arms,  all  unconscious  — drawn  “with  the  cords  of  a 
“ man,  with  bands  of  love.”  Then  comes  the  burst  of 
sorrow  over  their  fall : “ How  shall  I give  thee  up,  0 
“ Ephraim  ! how  shall  I deliver  thee,  0 Israel ! how  shall 
“ I make  thee  as  Adrnah ! how  shall  I set  thee  as  Ze- 
“ boim  1 Mine  heart  is  turned  within  Me,  My  strong 
“ compassions  are  kindled.  I will  not  execute  the  fierce- 
“ness  of  My  anger;  I will  not  return  to  destroy  Ephraim; 
“ for  I am  God,  and  not  man ; the  Holy  One  in  the 
“ midst  of  thee.”  Even  from  the  grave  the  dead  nation 
shall  start  to  life.  It  shall  blossom  and  burgeon  with 
all  the  prodigality  of  the  rich  vegetation  of  its  own 
northern  forests  ; like  the  gorgeous  lilies  of  Galilee,  like 


1 Di.  Pusey  on  Hosea,  p.  5. 
^ Hosca  i.  4,  6 ; ii.  1. 


3 Hosea  vi.  1-4. 

4 Ibid.  xi.  1-4  (LXX.). 


Lkct.  XXXIV. 


JEREMIAH. 


411 


the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  with  their  gnarled  roots,  and 
spreading  branches,  and  delicious  fragrance.^  Ephraim 
shall  say,  ‘^What  have  I to  do  any  more  there  with 
idols  ? ” And  the  Divine  answer  shall  be,  I have 
" heard  him  and  observed  him.”  Ephraim  shall  say,  I 
" am  like  a green  cypress-tree.”  And  the  answer  shall 
be,  From  Me  is  thy  fruit  found.” 

From  Judah,  these  strains  are  echoed,  more  faintly 
but  still  distinctly  enough  to  show  that  the 
anguish  of  the  rent  was  felt  there  also.  The 
Prophet  Jeremiah  is  not  so  lost  in  the  misfortunes  of 
Jerusalem,  but  that  he  has  an  ear  for  the  earlier  fall  of 
Israel.  He  hears  a voice  from  the  confines  of  Benjamin, 
from  the  height  of  Bamah,  lamentation  and  bitter  weep- 
ing. It  is  Rachel,  the  mother  of  the  three  mighty  tribes 
of  the  north,  the  house  of  Joseph  and  the  house  of 
Benjamin ; weeping  as  she  looks  over  the  desolate 
country,  weeping  for  her  children,  and  refusing  to  be 
comforted,  because  they  are  not.  He  bids  her  wipe 
away  her  tears,  for  there  is  hope  in  thine  end,  that 
“ thy  children  shall  come  again  into  their  own  border.”  ^ 
He  hears  a bemoaning,  a plaintive  lowing  as  of  a power- 
ful beast  struggling  with  his  captors.  It  is  Ephraim,  the 
mighty  bull  of  the  northern  tribes : Thou  hast  chastised 

me,  and  I was  chastised,  as  a bullock  unaccustomed  to 
the  yoke.  Turn  Thou  me,  and  I shall  be  turned,  for 
Thou  art  the  Lord  my  God.”  And  to  the  haughty  Son 
no  less  than  to  the  mournful  Mother,  there  is  a tender 
reply : Is  Ephraim  My  dear  son  ? is  he  a pleasant 

“ child  ? for  since  I spake  against  him,  I do  earnestly  re- 
^ member  him  still ; therefore  My  heart  is  troubled  for 
^ him ; I will  surely  have  mercy  upon  him.”  And  to  the 

1 Hosea  xiv.  4-8.  20;  xxxi.  15-17;  Ezek.  xix.,  xxxvii 

• Compare  Jer.  ii.  — iii.  5;  1.  17-  15-20. 


412 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMARIA. 


Lect.  XXXIV 


Prophet’s  vision,  the  valleys  of  Samaria  and  Shechera 
{\gain  are  clothed  with  vineyards,  and  resound  with 
tabrets  and  the  dances  of  them  that  make  merry,” 
••  old  and  young  together.”  ^ 

The  hope  of  Jeremiah  and  of  Hosea,  like  many  others 
uf  the  lofty  hopes  of  the  world  and  of  the  Church,  has 
l;een  fulfdled  rather  in  the  spirit  than  in  the  letter.  In 
spite  of  these  predictions  ^Hhe  ten  tribes  were  never 
restored  ; they  never,  as  a whole,  received  any  favor 
from  God  after  _ they  went  into  captivity.”  ^ Many 
seem  to  have  tied  into  Egypt,  which,  though  unable  to 
help  the  falling  kingdom,  received  its  fugitives.^  But  of 
this  migration  we  have  no  particulars.  The  general 
history  of  the  tribes  divides  itself  henceforward  into  two 
unequal  streams. 

The  main  body  of  the  inhabitants  were  transplanted 
Exiles  in  remotest  provinces  of  the  Assyrian  em- 

Assyna.  Tlic  first  generation  of  the  exiles  lived 

to  see  the  fall  of  their  conquerors.  The  suddenness,  the 
totality  of  the  ruin  of  Nineveh  has  been  preserved  from 
oblivion  chiefly  through  the  predictions  or  the  descrip- 
tion of  Nahum  the  Elkoshite.  He  was,  we  can 
hardly  doubt,  the  last  of  the  great  series  of 
Israelitish  Prophets,  whether  we  suppose  that  his  birth- 
place was  in  Galilee,  or  the  Assyrian  village  of  that 
name ; whether  we  suppose  that  he  was  amongst  the 
captives  in  Assyria,  or  had  taken  refuge  in  Judah. 
There  is  something  pathetic  in  the  thought  that  the 
crash  of  these  mighty  cities,  Thebes  in  the  far  south  and 
Nineveh  in  the  far  east,  is  known  to  us  only  through  the 
triumphant  cry  of  this  solitary  exile.  It  is  one  sustained 


Nahum. 


1 Jer.  xxxi.  18-20;  compare  4,  5,  3 Jsa.  xi.  11,  &c. 

13.  4 See  the  special  localities  discussed 

^ Dr.  Pusey  on  Hosea  vi.  2.  in  Evvald,  iil.  613. 


UCT.  XXXIV. 


NAHUM.  —TOBIT. 


413 


shout  of  wild  exultation  that  the  oppressor  has  fallen  at 
last.  The  naked  discrowned  corpse  of  the  glorious  city 
is  cast  out  to  the  scorn  and  disgust  of  the  world.  No 
spark  of  pity  mingles  with  the  Prophet’s  deHght.  AH 
that  hear  the  report  of  thee  shall  clap  their  hands  at 
^Hhee,  for  upon  whom  did  not  thy  wickedness  con- 
tinually  pass  ? ” The  lion’s  lair  is  at  last  laid  waste, 
where  the  lion,  and  the  lioness,  and  the  lion’s  whelp 
once  walked  without  fear.^  In  this  storm  of  indignation 
and  vengeance,  the  spirit  of  Prophecy  in  the  northern 
kingdom  breathes  its  last.  Under  this  doom,  Nineveh 
vanishes  from  view,  to  be  no  more  seen  till  in  our  day 
the  discovery  of  her  buried  remains  has  given  new  life 
to  the  whole  of  this  portion  of  sacred  history,  and  not 
least  to  the  magnificent  dirge  of  Nahum.  Of  him  we 
know  no  more.^  Tradition  rejoices  to  trace  to  his  in- 
fluence the  rise  of  the  great  Zoroaster.  His  reputed 
tomb  hard  by  the  ruins  of  Nineveh  is  still  visited  by 
hundreds  of  Christian  and  Jewish  pilgrims.^ 

But  side  by  side  with  this  stern  representative  of  the 
fire  and  energy  of  Elijah  lingers  a faint  trace  ^ 
of  the  tender  scenes  of  the  Galilean  valleys,  of 
the  milder  spirit  of  Elisha  and  Hosea.  The  Book  of 
Tobit  is,  doubtless,  of  far  later  date  in  the  history  than 
the  point  at  which  we  are  now  arrived,  and  it  hardly 
pretends  to  be  more  than  a religious  historical  fiction. 
But  it  was  reckoned  amongst  the  Prophetical  books  by 
Nestorius,  and  amongst  the  books  of  inspired  Scripture 
by  the  Homilies  of  the  English  Church ; was  the  especial 
admiration  of  Luther,  and  has  often  consoled  the  Chris- 
tian sufferer  by  the  same  topics  that  cheered  the  griefs 

1 Nahum  ii.  12;  iii.  6,  19.  fall  of  Thebes  (ii.  8),  probably  about 

2 The  only  indication  of  time  in  b.  C.  712. 

the  Prophecy  is  the  allusion  to  the  3 Layard’s  Nineveh^  i.  233  ; Ewald, 

iii.  690. 


114 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMARIA. 


Lect.  XXXIV 


of  the  Israelite  captive.  Its  doctrines  and  details  must 
be  reserved  to  the  time  when  it  came  into  existence. 
But  its  portraiture  of  the  domestic  life  of  the  exiles,  the 
exultation  at  the  connection  of  Tobit’s  house  with  the 
p^reat  sanctuary  of  Kedesh  Naphtali,^  the  longing 
regard  for  their  own  country,  and  the  rejoicing  ” over 
the  fall  of  Nineveh  — carry  us  back  to  the  age  in  which 
the  story  is  laid,  amongst  the  funerals,  and  wedding- 
feasts,  and  parental  anxieties,  and  cousinly  loves,  and 
the  patriotic  philanthropy  of  the  good  ” father  of  the 

good  ” son,  in  the  first  generation  of  Israelite  cap- 
tives.^ 

After  this  it  is  difficult  to  discover  any  distinct  trace 
of  the  northern  tribes.  Some  returned  with  their 
countrymen  of  the  southern  kingdom.^  In  the  New 
Testament  there  is  special  mention  of  the  tribe  of 
Asher,^  and  the  ten  tribes  generally  are  on  three  ^ 
emphatic  occasions  ranked  with  the  others.  The  im- 
mense Jewish  population  which  made  Babylonia  a 
second  Palestine  was  in  part  derived  from  them ; and 
the  Jewish  customs  that  have  been  discovered  in  the 
Nestorian  Christians,  with  the  traditions  of  the  sect 
itself,  may  indicate  at  any  rate  a mixture  of  Jewish  de- 
scent. That  they  are  concealed  in  some  unknown 
region  of  the  earth  is  a fable  ® with  no  foundation  either 
in  history  or  prophecy. 

There  is,  however,  another  doubtful  remnant  of  the 
northern  kingdom,  which  has  clung  to  its  original  seat 

1 The  Patriarch  of  the  Nestorlans  4 Luke  ii.  36. 

professes  in  like  manner  to  be  of  the  5 James  i.  1 ; Acts  xxvi.  7 ; Rev 
tribe  of  Naphtali.  vii.  5-8. 

2 Tobit,  Tobias.  Tob  = “ good  ; ” ® See  Dean  Milman’s  History  oj 

Rwald,  iv.  234.  the  Jews,  3d  edit.  i.  375. 

3 See  Jer.  ii.  — iii.  14,  15 ; xxiii., 

XXX.  — xxxi.  37  ; 1.  17-20. 


Lacr.  XXXIV. 


THE  SAMARITAN  SECT. 


416 


with  a tenacity  exceeding  even  that  of  the  tribe  of 
Judah  itself.  The  full  history  of  the  Samaritan  sect 
belongs  to  a later  period.  But  its  origin  dates 
from  the  first  moment  of  desolation.  Then 
took  place  that  union,  in  whatever  proportions  it  may 
have  been,  between  the  remnant  of  the  old  Israelite^ 
inhabitants  and  the  Cuthaean  colonists  transplated  from 
Central  Asia,  which  alone  can  account  for  the  singular 
position,  neither  Jewish  nor  Gentile,  which  the  Samar 
ritans  have  occupied  ever  since.  In  the  inroad  of  the 
lions  from  the  Jordan  valley,^  through  the  tangled  and 
deserted  forests  of  Samaria,  these  foreign  settlers  saw 
a divine  judgment  on  their  alien  'rites,  and  though 
these  rites  lingered  for  two  or  three  generations,  they 
soon  gave  way  to  the  traditions  received  from  the 
Ephraimite  or  Benjamite  priest,  who  revived  for  the 
last  time  the  ancient  sanctuary  of  Bethel,  and  from 
the  poorer  classes,®  who  remained  in  the  country  after 
the  court  and  aristocracy  had  been  carried  off!  In 
the  deep-rooted  inveterate  feud  between  the  Jews  and 
Samaritans,  surviving  even  to  our  own  time,  but  with 
a world-renowned  bitterness  at  the  time  of  the  Chris- 
tian era,  we  see  a later  outbreak  of  the  fiery  rivalry 
which  burnt  between  the  kingdoms  of  Behoboam  and 
Jeroboam.  In  the  congenial  kindness  with  which  He 
who  was  Himself  called  in  scorn  a Samaritan  ” at- 
tracted and  was  attracted  by  this  despised  sect;  His 
gracious  words  to  the  Samaritan  village  — to  the  Sa- 

1 See  Ewald,  iii.  675,  &c.  “strangers,”  but  never  as  Gentiles. 

2 2 Kings  xvii.  25.  Comp.  Zech.  Contrast  Acts  viii.  5,  16,  with  Acts 

id  3.  X.  28,  46.  (3.)  From  their  own  ac- 

3 That  they  were  mainly  Jewish  count  of  themselves.  (4.)  From  their 
appears  — (1.)  From  their  language.  Jewish  usages.  (5.)  From  the  many 
(2.)  From  the  fact  that  in  the  New  Israelites  left  in  Palestine  after  th« 
Testament  they  are  described  as  Captivity. 


416 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMARIA. 


Leci.  XXXIV 


maritan  woman  — to  the  Samaritan  leper  — concerning 
the  Samaritan  traveller — we  read  a continuation  of 
the  same  lesson  which  is  suggested  by  the  whole  course 
of  the  history  which  we  have  been  studying. 

This  kindly  feeling  towards  Ephraim,  Gerizim,  Sama- 
The  doc-  Biblical  sanction  of  the  truth  im- 

simaHtan^^  pressed  upon  us  by  all  sound  ecclesiastical 
history.  history,  that  the  grace  of  God  overflows  the 
boundaries  within  which  we  should  naturally  suppose 
that  it  would  be  confined.  The  kingdom  of  Judah  had, 
as  we  shall  see,  the  sanctuary  and  the  sacred  ritual. 
‘‘The  Jews  knew  what  they  worshipped ; ” and  in  the 
fullest  sense  “ the'  salvation  ” of  the  nation  came  from 
them.  But  this  did  not  prevent  the  growth  of  the 
series  of  Prophets  within  the  kingdom  of  Samaria.,  and 
throughout  their  teaching  there  is  hardly  a word  to 
show  that  they  laid  any  stress  on  the  duty  of  conform- 
ing to  the  ritual  of  Judah.  There  is,  indeed,  a modern 
tradition  that  the  travellers  described  ^ by  Hosea  were 
pilgrims  to  Jerusalem.  But  of  this  there  is  no  trace  in 
the  original  text.  The  moral  evils,  the  sensual  idola- 
tries of  Samaria,  are  attacked  with  no  sparing  hand, 
but  hardly  ever  the  sin  of  outward  separation.  Both 
kingdoms  are  impartially  denounced ; ^ neither  is  by  de- 
liberate comparison  placed  above  the  other.  The  soil 
of  the  kingdom  of  Israel  was  as  precious  to  distant 
pilgrims  as  the  soil  of  Judea.®  The  capital  of  Omri 

1 Dr.  Pusey  on  Hosea,  p.  42.  confirm  the  translation  which  renders 

2 The  only  exce[)tion  is  2 Kings  it  to  bo  not  “Judah  ruleth  with  God., 
iii.  14,  where  Elisha  refuses  to  speak  and  is  faithful  with  the  saints,”  buf 
to  Jehoram,  except  for  the  sake  of  “Judah  is  inconstant  with  God,  and 
Jehoshaphat.  Hos.  xi.  12  has  been  with  the  faithfid  Holy  One.”  See 
alleged  as  an  examjjle  to  the  contrary,  the  comparison  of  the  two  kingdom! 
But  the  LLX.,  the  context,  and  the  in  Ezek.  xxiii.  4,  11,  32. 

general  rendering  of  Hebrew  scholars  3 2 Kings  v.  17. 


Lect.  XXXIV. 


THE  SAMARITANS. 


417 


was  saved  by  as  direct  an  intervention  of  Providence 
as  ever  rescued  the  capital  of  David.^  In  the  life  of 
Elijah  a later  Jewish  tradition  maintains*  that  the 
rebuke  which  he  addressed  to  Ahab  was  the  first  verse 
of  the  76th  Psalm:  ^^In  Judah  is  God  known.”  But 
this,  though  it  is  what  much  of  modern  Judaism  and 
of  modern  Christianity  would  require  from  him,  is 
not  the  record  of  the  ancient  Scriptures.  His  rebuke 
to  Ahab,  as  we  have  seen,  was  grounded  on  a far 
deeper  basis.  The  question  of  the  schism  of  Judah 
and  Israel  was  one  which  he  never  for  a moment 
stirred.  The  position  of  this  greatest  of  the  Prophets, 
living  entirely  apart  from  the  authorized  sanctuary 
of  Judah,  has  been  described  with  a thrilling  sympathy 
in  a remarkable  sermon,  preached  more  than  twenty 
years  ago  by  one  who  was  struggling,  with  all  the 
energy  of  a large  and  generous  heart,  to  keep  his 
balance  in  what  he  believed  to  be  a schismatical  and 
almost  heretical  Church.  Elijah  made  no  effort  to  set 
right  what  had  gone  so  wrong ; he  paid  no  honor  to 
the  regular  service  of  the  Mosaic  ritual ; he  never 
went  on  the  yearly  pilgrimage : in  the  one  instance 
in  which  he  is  found  in  the  kingdom  of  Judah,  he 
passed  by  Jerusalem,  he  went  on  to  Beersheba  ” — 
he  passed  on  along  a forlorn  and  barren  way  into 
that  old  desert  where  the  children  of  Israel  had  wan- 
“ dered  to  Hoj’eb  the  mount  of  God.”  His  mission  and 
that  of  his  successor  was  to  make  the  best  of  what 
they  found ; not  to  bring  back  a rule  of  religion  that 
“had  passed  away,”  but  to  dwell  on  the  Moral  Law, 
which  could  be  fulfilled  everywhere ; not  on  the  Cere- 
monial Law,  which  circumstances  seemed  to  have  put 
out  of  their  reach:  “not  sending  the  Shunammite  to 

i 2 Kings  vii.  16.  2 of  Dr.  Wolff,  i.  222. 

VOL.  II.  27 


418 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMAEIA. 


Lect.  XXXIV 


^‘Jerusalem,  nor  eager  for  a proselyte  in  Naainan,  j-et 
making  the  heathen  fear  the  name  of  God,  and  prov* 
ing  to  them  that  there  was  a Prophet  in  Israel.”' 
When  our  hearts  glow  with  admiration  for  the  splen- 
did character  of  Elijah,  or  in  sympathy  with  the  tender- 
ness of  TTosea,  we  are  but  responding  to  the  call  of 
Him  who  bids  us  do  justice  and  mercy  even  to  those 
to  whom,  on  theological  or  ecclesiastical  grounds,  we 
are  most  opposed ; and  recognize  that  the  goodness 
which  we  approve  was  found,  not  in  the  Priest  or  the 
Levite,  but  in  the  heretical,  schismatical,  Samaritan. 
The  history  of  Judah  will  have  other  and  equally 
important  lessons  to  teach  us ; but  the  history  of 
Samaria,  the  very  names  of  Samaria  and  Samaritan, 
carry  with  them  the  savor  of  this  great  Evangelical 
doctrine.  The  Prophets  of  Judah  looked  forward  to  a 
blessed  time  when  Ephraim  should  not  envy  Judah, 
and  Judah  should  not  vex  Ephraim.  The  Prophets 
of  Israel,  and  He  who,  like  them,  dwelt  not  in  Judea 
but  in  Galilee,  ‘^whence  no  good  thing ^ could  come,” 
and  in  Samaria,  ^^with  which  the  Jews  had  no  deal- 
^Gngs,”^  were  incontestable  witnesses  that  such  a hope 
was  not  impossible. 

1 Newman’s  Sermons,  vlii.  p.  415. 

8 John  I 46  ; vii.  41,  52. 


3 John  iv.  9. 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  JUDAH, 


XXXV. 

THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 

XXXVI. 

THE  JEWISH  PRIESTHOOD. 

XXXVII. 

THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH. 

XXXVIII. 

HEZEKIAH  AND  ISAIAH. 

XXXIX. 

MANASSEH  AND  JOSIAH. 

XL. 

JEREMIAH  AND  EZEKIEL.  — THE  FALL  OF  JE 
RUSALEM. 

BPECTAL  AUTHORITIES  FOR  THE  IHSTORY  OF  THE  KING- 
DOM OF  JUDAH. 


I.  Original  authorities  lost : — 

1.  The  “ liook  of  the  Kings  of  Judah  and  Israel”  (2  Chr.  xxv.  26; 
xxxii.  32),  or  “ of  Israel  and  Judah  ” (Ibid,  xxvii.  7 ; xxxv.  27  ; xxxvi. 
8),  or  the  “ Rook  (‘Words’  or  ‘Acts’)  of  Israel”  (xxxiii.  18),  from 
Amaziah  to  Jehoiachin. 

2.  The  “Rook  of  the  Chronicles  of  the  Kings  of  Judah”;  in  the 
case  of  Rehoboain  (1  Kings  xlv.  29),  Abijam  (Ibid.  xv.  7),  Asa 
(xv.  23),  Joram  (2  Kings  vlii.  23),  Joash  (xii.  19),  Azariah  (xv.  6), 
Jotham  (xv.  3G),  Ahaz  (xvi.  19),  Hezekiah  (xx.  20),  Manasseh  (xxi 
17),  An.cn  (xxi.  25),  Josiah  (xxiii.  28),  Jehoiakim  (xxiv.  5). 

3.  The  “Rook  (‘  Words’)  of  Shemaiah  ” (2  Chr.  xii.  15). 

4.  The  “ Visions  of  Mdo  the  Seer  against  Jeroboam  ” (2  Chr.  ix.  29)  ; 

and  the  “Rook  (‘Words’)  of  Iddo  the  Seer  concerning  Genealogies  ” 
(2  Chr.  xii.  1 5). 

6.  The  “ Rook  (‘  Words  ’)  of  Jehu,  son  of  Hanani  ” (2  Chr.  xx.  34). 

6.  The  “Rest  of  the  Acts  (‘Words’)  of  Uzziah,  first  and  last,”  by 

Isaiah  (2  Chr.  xxvi.  22)  ; the  “ Vision  of  Isaiah  son  of  Amoz.”  con 
taining  the  “Rest  of  the  Acts  (‘Words’)  of  Hezekiah”  (2  Chr. 
xxxii.  32).  Of  this  it  is  probable  that  Isa.  xxxvi.  — xxxlx.  forms  a 
part. 

7.  The  “ Sayings  (‘  Words  ’)  of  Hozai  ” (2  Chr.  xxxiii.  19). 

n.  The  extant  Historical  Rooks:  — 

1.  The  Prophetical  “ Rook  of  the  Kings,”  completed  at  the  time  of  the 
Captivity  (2  Kings  xxv.  27-30). 

2.  The  Chronicles  — “ The  Words  of  the  Days,”  the  last  in  the  Canon 
— one  book,  divided  by  LXX.  into  two  books,  under  the  name  of 
Paralipomena^  “ Omitted  Parts.”  Compiled  from  various  sources,  of 
which  the  latest  appears  to  be  of  the  time  of  Alexander  the  Great  (1 
Chr.  ili.  21-24). 

ni.  Illustrations  from  contemporary  Prophets : Joel ; Hosea ; Amos ; Micah ; 
Isaiah  i.  — xxxvi.;  Zephaniah  ; Zechariah  xii.  — xiv. ; Habakkuk ; 
Obadiah  ; Jeremiah;  Ezekiel;  Isaiah  xl. — Ixvi. 

IV.  Illustrations  from  the  Psalms. 

V.  Illustrations  from  Assyrian  and  Egyptian  Monuments. 

VI.  Jewish  Traditions  (1)  in  Josephus,  Ant.  vili.  10 — x.  8;  (2)  in  the 
Qucsstiones  Hehraicce^  attributed  to  Jerome ; (3)  in  Fabricius,  Codex 
Pseudepigraphus  Vet.  Test. 

Vn.  Heathen  Traditions  in  Herodotus,  ii.  141,  159. 


LECTURE  XXXV. 


CHE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 

The  history  of  the  kingdom  of  Judah  is  the  history 
of  a dynasty,  rather  than  of  a nation  — of  a city,  rather 
than  of  a country.  Its  title  reveals  to  us  its  strength 
as  well  as  its  weakness.  The  tribe  of  Judah,  the  city 
of  Jerusalem,  the  family  of  David,  had  acquired  too 
much  fame  during  the  preceding  reigns  to  be  easily  lost. 
It  is  a striking  instance  of  the  influence  of  a great  name 
on  the  course  of  human  history.  The  long  hereditary 
line  attracted  a prestige  which  in  Israel  was  shattered 
by  the  constant  vicissitudes  of  the  royal  houses.  The 
lamp  ” ^ or  torch  ” of  David  was  always  burning,  even 
although  it  seemed  at  times  on  the  very  verge  of  ex- 
tinction. There  was  a pledge  given  as  if  by  ^^a  covenant 
of  salt,”  ^ that  the  House  of  David  should  never  perish. 
The  interment  or  non-interment  in  the  royal  tomb  was 
a judgment  passed  on  each  successive  King,  as  the 
highest  honor  or  deepest  disgrace  that  he  could  reach. 
A royal  funeral  was  more  than  a ceremony,  — its  costly 
fragrance,^  its  solemn  dirges,  were  regarded  as  a kind  of 
canonization.  The  King  was  the  person  round  whom 
the  hopes  of  the  Prophet  Ruler  ^ constantly  revolved, 
even  though  they  were  constantly  disappointed.  An 
ideal  was  always  bound  up  with  the  royal  office  which 


1 1 Kings  xi.  36;  2 Kings  viii.  19.  3 2 Chr.  xvi.  14;  xxi.  19,  20;  Jer 

2 2 Chr.  xiii.  5.  xxxiv.  5 ; xxii.  10,  18. 

4 See  Ewald,  iii.  460. 


422 


THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 


LEcr.  XXXV 


kept  it,  in  a peculiar  sense,  in  tlie  sight  of  the  people. 
Jerusalem,  the  most  recent,  but  also  the  most  potent  of 
the  sanctuaries  in  its  religious  associations,  represented, 
as  no  otlier  place  could,  the  national  unity.  The  Temple 
of  Solomon  was  the  only  building  worthy  of  the  na- 
tional faith.  All  the  most  sacred  rclijs  of  the  primitive 
history  were  there  stored  up.  Much  as  its  splendor 
suffered  from  sacks  and  spoliations,  yet  its  worship  was 
only  twice  interrupted.  Even  the  Pagan  Kings,  such 
as  Rehohoam  and  Abijah,  respected  its  sanctity,  made 
costly  offerings,  and  frequented  its  services.  Athaliah 
and  Manasseh  established  their  own  heathen  rites  under 
the  shadow  of  its  walls.  The  Priesthood,  which  had 
gained  a new  development  at  the  time  of  the  formation 
of  the  separate  kingdom,  became,  as  it  advanced,  one 
of  the  firmest  institutions  of  the  state. 

And  when,  after  the  fall  of  Samaria  before  the  Assyr- 
ian power,  the  little  kingdom  of  Judah  remained  erect, 
it  gathered  into  itself  the  whole  national  spirit.  From 
this  time  began  that  identification  of  a single  tribe  with 
the  people  at  large,  which  is  expressed  in  the  word  Jeiv) 
Only  by  an  anachronism  do  we  apply  the  words  Jeiv  and 
Jeivish  to  times  before  the  overthrow  of  Samaria.  Had 
Israel  remained  faithful  to  her  call,  the  charm  which 
now  invests  the  names  of  Jerusalem  and  Zion  might 
well  have  been  attached  to  Shechem  and  Samaria.  But 
Judah  and  Jerusalem  rose  to  the  emergency,  and  there- 
fore out  of  Zion  went  forth  the  law,  and  the  word  of 
‘Hhe  Lord  from  Jerusalem.”  The  very  smallness  of  the 
kingdom  acted  as  a stimulus  to  its  internal  independence 
and  strength.  Again  and  again  the  fewness^  of  the 
people,  the  narrowness  of  its  territory,^  are  contrasted 

1 “ Jew,”  *lov6aXog,  is  Jehudi^  i.  e.  a ^2  Chr.  xiv.  11  ; xx.  12  ; xxxii.  7,  8. 

'*  man  of  Judah.”  3 Micah  iv.  1 ; Isaiah  ii.  2. 


Lbct.  XXXV. 


REHOBOAM. 


423 


with  the  vigor  of  its  moral  strength,  the  width  of  its 
spiritual  dominion. 

These  were  the  main  preservatives  of  the  kingdom 
of  Judah.  They  were  also  amongst  the  main  causes  of 
its  distractions  and  of  its  ultimate  fall.  The  overween- 
ing prestige  of  the  royal  family  threw  a disproportionate 
power  into  their  hands.  The  polygamy  which  followed 
on  the  example  of  David  and  Solomon,  in  common  with 
other  Oriental  monarchs,  was  far  more  persistently  car- 
ried out  in  the  south  than  in  the  north.  Even  the  best 
of  the  Kings,  such  as  Joash  and  Josiah,^  had  more  than 
one  wife.  There  was  a local  genius  of  evil  as  well  as 
of  good  haunting  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  itself  that 
ultimately  fostered  the  growth  of  heathen  idolatry  and 
of  orthodox  superstition  to  a degree  beyond  the  worst 
excesses  of  Samaria  and  Jezreel.  The  Temple  became 
a talisman ; the  Priesthood  a centre  of  superstition  and 
vice.^ 

It  is  the  struggle  between  these  contending  elements 
to  which,  after  the  shock  of  the  disruption,  the  External 
kingdom  and  church  of  Judah  was  exposed, 
that  gives  the  main  interest  to  the  period  of  the  seven 
first  successors  of  Solomon.  Both  kingdom  and  church 
were  menaced  with  destruction  at  its  commencement. 
At  its  close  both  were  established  on  a basis  sufficiently 
solid  to  withstand  the  dangers  of  the  later  period  for 
two  more  centuries. 

It  is  necessary  first  briefly  to  trace  the  steps  by  which 
the  kingdom  was  raised  from  the  state  to  which  it  had 
been  reduced  by  the  loss  of  its  external  dominions.  In 
this  crisis,  Kehoboam  showed  himself  not  al-  Rehoboam. 
together  unworthy  of  his  ancestors.  The  plan  ^76. 
of  defensive  operations  which  he  adopted  in  the  pres- 

1 2 Bangs  xxiv.  31,  compared  with  36.  2 See  Lecture  XL. 


424 


THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 


Lect.  XXXV 


ence  of  the  appalling  perils  of  his  situation  showed,  as 
the  sacred  narrative  expressly  indicates,^  that  he  still 
retained  a spark  of  the  “wisdom”  of  his  hither.  He 
“dwelt  himself”  in  Jerusalem.  Unlike  the  northern 
Kings,  who  immediately  began  to  shift  their  capital,  he 
perceived  the  immense  importance  of  retaining  his  hold 
on  the  city  of  David.  This  central  fortress  he  sur- 
rounded with  a chain  of  fortresses  ; in  part  carrying  out 
the  designs  of  his  father,  but  in  part  increasing  their 
number  and  providing  them  with  garrisons,  arms,  and 
provisions.^  These  garrisoned  cities,  in  which  he  placed 
those  princes  of  his  house  whom  he  did  not  intend  for 
the  succession,^  were  not,  as  might  have  been  at  first 
sight  expected,  on  the  northern  frontier  against  the 
rival  kingdom,  but  on  the  southern  and  western  side  of 
Jerusalem. 

The  reason  for  this  soon  become  apparent.  The 
great  Egyptian  monarchy  was  now  not  allied  with  the 
House  of  Solomon,  but  with  the  House  of  Jeroboam. 
And  now,  for  the  first  time  since  the  Exodus,  Judah  was 
once  more  threatened  with  an  Egyptian  bondage. 

On  the  southern  side  of  the  temple  of  Karnac  at 
Shishak.  Thebes  is  a smaller  temple  built  by  Rameses 
B.  c.  972.  Ill  Qf  ipjg  corner  was  sculptured  inside 
and  outside  by  the  King,  called  in  the  Egyptian  lan- 
guage Sesonchosis,  in  the  Hebrew  Shishak,  in  the  LXX 
Siisakirn,  perhaps  by  Herodotus  Sasi/chis}  He  copied 
almost  exactly  the  figures  already  carved  on  the  other 
parts  of  the  temple,  so  that  their  forms  and  attitudes 
are  mostly  conventional.  But  in  one  of  the  processions 
thus  represented  there  is  to  be  found  the  only  direct 


2 2 Chr.  xi.  23.  4 Herod,  ii.  136;  see  Kenrick’* 

2 Ibid.  xi.  5-12.  Egypt^  ii.  6. 

3 Ibid.  xi.  23.  Compare  Ps.  xlv.  16. 


Lect.  XXXV 


EGYPTIAN  INVASION 


425 


allusion  to  Jewish  history  on  the  Egyptian  monuments. 
On  one  side  stands  the  King  himself,  on  a colossal  scale, 
holding  in  his  hand  a train  of  captives.  Meeting  him 
is  the  God  Amon,  also  leading  a train  of  lesser  captives, 
by  strings  which  he  holds  in  his  hand,  and  which  are 
fastened  round  their  necks.  On  eleven  are  inscribed 
the  names  of  their  cities,  and  of  these  the  third  from 
Amon’s  hand  was  believed  by  Champollion  to  bear  the 
name  of  King  of  Judah.  This  identification,  which  for 
many  years  attracted  traveller  after  traveller  to  gaze  on 
the  only  likeness  of  any  Jewish  King  that  had  survived 
to  our  time,  has  been  of  late  much  disputed.  It  is  now, 
perhaps,  only  permitted  to  dwell  on  the  Jewish  physi- 
ognomy of  the  whole  series  of  captives,  and  the  con- 
trast, so  striking  from  the  inverse  intensity  of  interest 
with  which  we  regard  them,  between  the  diminutive 
figures  and  mean  countenances  of  the  captives  from 
Palestine,  and  the  gigantic  God  and  gigantic  Conqueror 
from  Egypt. 

Of  this  Egyptian  conquest  of  Palestine,  from  the 
Hebrew  narrative  we  gather  only  the  announcement 
of  an  immense  invasion,  — the  Egyptian  army,  swelled 
by  the  nations  both  of  the  northern  coast  and  of  the 
interior  of  Africa,  — and  the  capture,  the  first  capture, 
of  the  sacred  city.  For  this  the  Egyptian  record,  if 
rightly  interpreted  by  the  most  recent  investigations, 
would  substitute  the  names  of  the  districts  and  Arab 
settlements  in  the  south  of  Judah,  with  the  curious 
addition  of  several  LeviticaP  and  Canaanite  towns  in 
the  northern  kingdom,  as  if  to  mark  that  the  purely 
Israelite  cities  remained  untouched.  The  golden  shields 
were  carried  off  from  the  porch  of  Solomon’s  palace, 

1 Taanach,  Megiddo,  Ibleam,  Gib-  See  the  list  in  the  article  Shisha.K; 
eon,  Betli-horon,  Ajalon,  Mahanaim.  in  the  Dictionary  of  the  Bible. 


426 


THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 


Lect.  XXXV 


and  the  recollection  of  the  catastrophe  was  long  pre- 
served in  the  brazen  substitutes  with  which  Rehoboam 
poorly  tried  to  represent  the  former  grandeur.  The 
bitter  irony  with  which  the  sacred  historian  records^ 
the  parade  of  these  counterfeits  may  be  considered  as 
the  key-note  to  this  whole  period.  They  well  repre- 
sent the  ‘Mirazen  shields”  by  which  fallen  churches 
and  kingdoms  have  endeavored  to  conceal  from  their 
own  and  their  neighbors’  eyes  that  the  golden  shields 
of  Solomon  have  passed  away  from  them. 

A like  invasion  is  recorded  in  the  reign  of  Asa. 
“ Zerah^  the  Ethiopian  ” came  up  from  the  south,  and 
zerah,  the  decisive  battle  was  fought  at  Mareshah. 

B.  c.  947.  The  Book  of  Kings  passes  over  the  whole  war 

in  silence,  and  the  place,  the  person,  the  numbers  are 
too  indistinct  in  the  Chronicles  to  yield  any  certain 
results.^  Oidy  we  still  welcome  the  peculiar  spirit  of 
the  ancient  Israelite  warrior,  the  essence  of  religious 
courage : It  is  nothing  with  Thee  to  help,  whether 

with  many,  or  with  them  that  have  no  power.”  ^ 

The  wars  with  the  rival  kingdom  are  more  detailed. 
They  much  resemble  those  between  the  rival  states  of 
Greece  or  Italy.  They  chiefly  raged  round  the  fron- 
tier towns.  Three  of  these  — Bethel,  Jeshanah,  and 
Ep>hrain  or  Ephron  — were  taken  by  Abijah,  the  first 
probably  only  for  a short  time.^  Then  Ramah  — within 
dx  miles  of  Jerusalem  — became  an  Israelite  Decelea; 
and,  as  such,  Asa  thought  it  worth  while  to 

is*.  ’ ’ . 

purchase  even  Syrian  aid,  even  wdth  sacred 
treasures,  to  destroy  it,  and  with  the  materials  to 

1 2 Kings  xiv.  28.  3 2 Chr.  xiv.  9-15. 

2 It  is  possible  that  he  was  Osor-  4 Ibid.  xiv.  11;  Ewald  makes  Pa 
chon  III.,  who  was  Shishak’s  succes-  xxi.  to  be  of  this  time. 

lor  (Kcnrick,  ii.  350).  5 2 Chr.  xiii.  19. 


Lkct.  XXXV. 


JEHOSHAPHAT. 


427 


fortify  two  of  his  own  cities  on  the  frontier^  Geba  and 
Mizpah.^  In  the  latter  of  these  fortresses  a well  was 
sunk  in  case  of  siege,  to  which,  three  centuries  later,  a 
tragic  incident  attached  itself^  It  is  a fine  use  to  which 
Bossuet  has  turned  this  military  incident  as  illustrating 
the  duty,  not  of  rejecting  the  materials  or  the  argu- 
ments collected  by  unbelievers  or  by  heretics,  but  of 
employing  them  to  build  up  the  truth.  Batissons  lea 

forteresses  de  Juda  des  debris  et  des  ruines  de  celles 
^^de  Samarie.”^ 

In  a more  startling  form,  involving  a still  wider 
lesson  — if  moral  lessons  may  be  deduced  at  Jehosha- 

. . phat. 

all  from  these  civil  conflicts  — certainly  with  b.  c.  915. 
larger  historical  results  — this  principle  of  mutual 
advantage  was  followed  out  by  the  King  of  Judah,  who 
in  external  prosperity  most  nearly  rivalled  the  gran- 
deur of  David,  Jehoshaphat.  He  was  to  the  kingdom 
of  Judah  almost  what  Jeroboam  II.  was  in  this  respect 
to  the  kingdom  of  Samaria.  The  wars  with  Israel 
were  at  once  ended  by  the  firm  alliance,  sealed  by  the 
intermarriages,  which  took  place  ^ with  the  house  of 
Omri.  It  was  almost  a reunion  of  the  kingdoms. 
^^Jehoshaphat  made  peace  with  the  King  of  Israel.”® 
‘^He  was  as  Ahab  and  Jehoram;  his  horses”  (so  he 
adopted  the  new  image  which  the  increase  of  cavalry 
through  these  wars  introduced  into  all  the  language, 
religious  and  secular,  of  this  period)  ^^were  as  their 
‘^horses,  his  chariots  as  their  chariots,  his  people  as 
‘Hheir  people.”®  Here  and  there  a prophetic  voice’ 
was  raised  against  the  alliance ; here  and  there  a 

1 2 Chr.  xvi.  1-6 ; 1 Kings  xv.  16-  **  2 Kings  viii.  18,  26;  2 Chr. 

22.  xviii.  1. 

2 Jer.  xli.  9.  See  Lecture  XL.  5 i Kinffs  xxii.  44. 

O 

8 Sermon  Sur  la  Providence**  6 Ibid.  xxli.  4. 

Ivol.  Xli.  400).  7 2 Kings  iii.  13,  14  ; 2 Chr.  xix.  2. 


428 


THE  PTRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 


Lkct  XXXV 


calamity  seemed  to  follow  from  it.  But,  on  the  whole, 
the  result  was  such  as  to  leave  behind  the  recollection 
of  a reign  of  proverbial  splendor. 

The  fortifications  wliich  had  been  begun  by  Solo 
mon,^  carried  on  liy  Kehoboam,  and  with  less  vigor  by 
Al)ijam  and  Asa,  Jehoshaphat  continued  on  the  largest 
scale.  He  built  palaces”  (or  castles”)^  and  “cities 
of  store  ” throughout  Judah,  and  following  the  prec- 
edent “wisely”  set  by  Kehoboam,  he  placed  in  them 
his  six  younger  sons^  as  well  as  other  “ princes,”  chosen 
from  the  “host.”^  Garrisons^  were  also  placed  there 
with  treasures.®  Besides  these,  he  had  special  officers 
at  Jerusalem.  Their  names  are  not  otherwise  famous, 
but  the  mere  record  of  them  shows  the  reviving  im- 
portance of  the  kingdom  of  Judah. 

Through  the  conquest  or  vassalage  of  Edom"^  the 
door  was  opened  to  the  commerce  of  the  gulf  of  Elath. 
The  port  of  Akaba,  or  Ezion-Geber,  long  discontinued, 
was  once  more  alive  with  ship-builders  and  sailors.  But 
the  enterprise  was  defeated  ; and  a mystery  hangs  over 
the  history  of  its  failure.® 

Of  his  external  relations,  it  is  twice  stated  that  “ the 
War  with  of  Lord  fell  on  all  the  kingdoms  of 

Moab.  ^^the  lands  that  were  round  about  Judah,  so 
“that  they  made  no  war  upon  Jehoshaphat.”®  The 
Philistines  who,  probably  in  the  Hvo  Egyptian  inva- 
sions, had  thrown  off  the  yoke  of  Judah,  again  recog- 
nized his  sovereignty  by  tribute.^®  The  nomad  tribes 


1 Biranioth. 

2 2 Chr.  xvii.  12;  comp,  xxvii.  4. 
Ibid.  xxi.  2,  3. 

■*  Ibid.  xvii.  7 (Heb.).- 
® Ibid.  xvii.  2. 

6 Ibid.  xvii.  12  ; xxi.  3. 

^ 1 Kings  xxii.  47. 


8 The  Hebrew  text  of  1 Kings  xxii 
47-50,  seems  at  variance  with  that  of 
2 Chr.  XX.  35-37. 

2 2 Chr.  xvii.  10  ; xx.  29. 

1®  Ibid.  xvii.  11. 

n Maonites  (LXX.  yiivcuoi,  2 Chr 
XX.  1)  ; see  1 Chr.  iv.  4. 


Lect.  XXXV 


WAR  WITH  MOAB. 


429 


paid  him  tribute  in  rams  and  goats.^  One  great  inva 
sion  he  sustained.  Moab/  which  maintained  an  in- 
dependent  rank,  though  subject  to  the  northern  king- 
dom, with  its  kindred  tribes  of  Ammon  and  Edom, 
crossed  the  southeastern  border  of  Palestine,  and  en- 
camped on  the  heights  above  the  Dead  Sea.,  by  the 
palm-groves  of  Engedi.^  A sudden  panic  or  jealousy^ 
dissolved  the  heterogeneous  host  in  the  very  presence 
of  the  army  of  Judah,  and  the  recollection  of  the  ex- 
pedition, accompanied  as  it  had  been  by  all  the  solemni- 
ties of  a sacred  war,  lived  long  in  the  memory  of  the 
people.  The  opening  in  the  hills  where  the  spoil  was 
collected,  and  where  the  blessing,”  the  grace,”  on 
its  distribution  was  pronounced  by  the  Levites,  was 
known  as  the^  valley  of  Blessing.”  The  whole  scene  " 
of  the  wild  confusion  of  those  vast  multitudes  in 
the  solitude  of  the  desert  hills ; their  tumultuous  flight, 
as  though  before  a stroke  of  that  Divine  judgment 
of  which  the  name  of  the  victorious  King  was  a pledge 
— appears  to  have  given  the  name  of  Jeho-Shaphat 
in  this  double  sense  to  the  wide  valley  down  which 
the  host  fled,  and  to  have  furnished  the  Prophet  Joel 
in  the  next  generation  with  the  imagery  in  which  he 
described  the  Divine  judgment  on  the  surrounding 
heathens.  Again,  he  seems  to  see  them  gathered  in 
the  fatal  valley.  Again,  they  sit  like  the  fields  of 
corn  waving  for  the  sickle ; “ Multitudes,  multitudes 
‘^in  the  valley  of  decision.”®  And  it  is  a conjecture 
full  of  probability,  that  the  83d  Psalm  was  sung,  it 
may  be,  by  Jahaziel  the  Levite,  on  this  very  occasion 
No  other  event  is  so  likely  to  have  evoked  the  remem- 

1 1 Kinjrs  xvji.  11 ; 1 Clir.  ix.  4.  * Evil,  disturbing,  spirits.  See 

2 Compare  2 Kings  iii.  4.  Evvald,  iii.  p.  476. 

3 2 Chr.  xxi.  1,  2.  5 Joel  iii,  2. 


430 


THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAFI. 


Lect.  XXXV- 


brance  of  the  invasion  of  the  fierce  nomadic  hordes 
of  Midian  and  of  their  unexpected  fliglit.  Tyre,  Phi- 
listia,  and  even  the  distant  Assyria,  might  naturally 
look  with  favor  on  an  invasion  that  would  cripple 
the  reviving  powers  of  Judah.  The  whirlwind  of  con- 
fusion fitly  represents  the  panic  which  overthrew  the 
hostile  army  and  sent  them  laying  like  stubble  before 
the  storui  back  to  their  native  haunts.^ 

A still  more  decisive  victory  followed  upon  this  retreat 
of  the  Moabites.  The  whole  national  force  of  Israel, 
combined  with  that  of  the  neighbor  nation  of  Edom, 
passed  round  the  Dead  Sea,  and  entered  their  southern 
territory.  It  is  a campaign  full  of  characteristic  ^ inci- 
dents. The  mighty  sheep-master  on  the  throne  of 
Moab,  with  his  innumerable  flocks  — the  arid  country 
through  which  the  allied  forces  have  to  pass  — the 
sudden  apparition  of  the  Prophet  and  the  minstrel  in 
the  Israelitish  army  — the  red  light  of  the  rising  sun, 
reflected  back  from  the  red  hills  of  Edom — the  merci- 
less devastation  of  the  conquered  territory,  apparently 
at  the  instigation  of  the  rival  Edomite  chief — the 
deadly  hatred  between  him  ® and  the  King  of  Moab  — 
the  terrible  siege  of  the  royal  fortress  of  Kir-haraseth, 
closing  with  the  sacrifice  of  the  heir  to  the  throne,^  and 
the  shudder  of  indignation  which  it  caused  — bring  be- 
fore  us  in  a short  compass  the  threads  of  the  history  of 
these  rival  kingdoms,  each  marked  by  its  peculiar  tradi- 
tions and  local  circumstances,  beyond  any  other  single 
event  of  this  period. 

1 Ps.  Ixxxlii.  6,  7,  8,  9,  13.  See  that  the  son  of  the  King  of  Edom 
Hengstenberg,  who  also  refers  Psalms  may  be  intended  (see  Dr.  Pusey  on 
xlvii.  and  xlviii.  to  this  battle;  but  Amos  ii.  1);  but  the  common  inter 
this  is  more  doubtful.  pretation  seems  the  most  probable 

* 2 Kings  iii.  4-27.  (Joseph.  Ant.  ix.  3,  § 2;  Keil, 

* Ibid.  iii.  26.  Comp.  Amos  ii.  1.  Ewald;  Thenius).  Compare  Micab 

* 2 Kings  iii.  26,  It  is  possible  vi.  6,  7. 


Lect  XXXV. 


INTERNAL  STRUGGLE. 


431 


Thus  far  we  have  tracked  the  external  history  of  the 
kingdom,  so  far  as  it  is  needed  as  a framework  internal 
of  the  religious  struggle  which  was  carried  on 
within.  That  struggle  was  neither  more  nor  less  than 
the  endeavor  to  maintain  the  true  faith  in  One  God, 
against  the  Canaanite  and  Phoenician  polytheism  which 
had  taken  possession  of  the  court  of  Judah.  It  was 
this  which  sunk  the  southern  kingdom  so  far  behind  the 
level  of  the  northern,  when  they  first  started  asunder. 
It  almost  seemed  as  if  there  was  something  in  the  old 
heathen  origin  of  Jerusalem  which  rendered  its  soil  con- 
genial to  the  revival  of  those  old  heathen  impurities. 
It  was  like  a seething  caldron,  of  mingled  blood  and 
froth,  whose  scum  is  therein  and  whose  scum  is  not 

gone  out  of  it.”  ^ The  Temple  was  hemmed  in  by  dark 
idolatries  on  every  side.  Mount  Olivet  was  covered  with 
heathen  sanctuaries,  monumentaP  stones,  and  pillars 
of  Baal.  Wooden  statues  of  Astarte  under  the  sacred 
trees,  huge  images  of  Moloch,  appeared  at  every  turn 
in  the  walks  round  Jerusalem.  The  valley  of  Hinnom 
now  received  that  dreadful  association  of  sacrificial  fires 
and  gloomy  superstition  which  it  never  lost.  The  royal 
gardens  ^ of  Tophet  were  used  for  the  same  purpose. 
Already  the  sights  and  sounds  which  there  met  the  ear 
rendered  the  spot  a byword  for  the  funeral  piles  of  the 
dead,  and  through  the  Rabbinical  traditions  the  horror 
of  this  pagan  Judaism  — these  decaying  corpses,  these 
ghastly  fires  of  Ge^hinnom  — has  passed  on  into  all  the 
languages  of  Christendom,  and  furnished  the  ground- 
work of  the  most  trivial  and  the  most  terrible  ^ images 
of  suffering  that  modern  Europe  has  received.  IPthere 

1 Ezek.  xxiv.  6.  4 The  fire  of  Ge-henna  (Matt.  v. 

See  Kell  on  1 Kings  xiv.  22.  22,  29,  30 ; Luke  xii.  5)  cormpt«d 

3 2 Kings  xxiii.  10;  Isa.  xxx.33;  into  the  French 
/er.  vii.  31,  32  ; xix.  6,  11-14. 


432 


THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 


Lect.  XXX  V 


was  a holy  city,”  tliere  was  also  an  “ unholy  city,” 
within  the  walls  of  Zion,  and  the  two  were  perpetually^ 
striving  for  mastery,  throughout  the  whole  history  of 
the  place.  The  last  mention  of  Jerusalem  which  occurs 
in  the  sacred  books  is  as  the  great  city  which  spirit- 
‘Mially  is  called  Sodom  and  Egypt.”^  Such  it  was  lit- 
erally in  the  days  of  Reholioam  and  Abijah. 

In  this  struggle  the  heathen  Jerusalem  was  repre- 
sented chiefly  by  two  powerful  princesses,  each  of  foreign 
extraction,  — Maacah  and  Athaliah. 

The  free  independent  action  of  the  Hebrew  women, 
as  seen  in  the  cases  of  Miriam,  Deborah,  Michal,  was 
not  likely  to  be  diminished  when  they  were  mounted  on 
the  throne.  The  influence  of  Bathsheba  had  secured 
the  succession  to  Solomon.  In  the  numerous  harem  of 
Rehoboam  the  favorite  queen  was  Maacah,  the 

Maacah.  i i i i -i 

daughter,”  or  more  probably  the  grand- 
daughter, of  his  uncle  Absalom,  called  after  her  own 
grandmother  or  great-grandmother,  the  Princess  of 
Geshur.  The  beauty  which  Absalom  had  inherited 
(according  to  Jewish  tradition)  from  this  princess,  de- 
scended to  his  daughter  Tamar,  and  thence  to  her 
daughter  Maacah,  who  acquired  the  same  fascination  first 
over  her  husband  and  then  over  her  son,  that  her  aunt 
Tamar  had  exercised  over  her  brothers.  Rehoboam 
^Moved  Maacah  above  all  his  wives  and  concubines.”^ 
When  her  son  Abijah  was  chosen  above  all  his  brothers 
as  successor,  she  filled  the  high  office  known  in  Jeru- 
salem, as  in  the  Turkish  empire,  by  a peculiar  name  — 
Reforms  of  Ihe  Queen  Mother  — Gebirah  — “ The  Leader  ” ^ 
Isa.  . — SuUam  Valide ; and  her  influence  con- 


i Rev.  xi.  8.  The  word  is  only  used  here,  in  9 

S 2 Chr.  xi.  21.  Kings  x.  13,  and  in  Jer.  xiii.  18 

^ 1 Kings  XV.  18 ; 2 Chr.  xv.  16.  xxix.  2.  LXX.  vyovnevo^. 


UcT.  XXXV. 


REFORMS  OF  JEHOSHAPHAT. 


433 


tinned  through  his  reign  and  that  of  her  grandson  Asa. 
It  was  he  who  at  last  broke  the  fatal  spell.  He  re- 
moved her  from  her  office,  and  destroyed  the  private 
sanctuary,  in  which  she  seems  to  have  ministered.  The 
obscene  wooden  image  which  it  contained  was  com- 
mitted to  the  flames,  in  the  valley  of  the  Kedron.’ 
From  this  moment  Jerusalem  began  again  to  breathe 
freely.  The  polygamy  of  the  court,  which  had  lasted 
through  both  the  preceding  reigns,  ceased  ; and  the 
worship  of  the  foreign  divinities  was  forbidden.  The 
worst  form  of  licentious  rites  was  partially  extirpated, 
and  the  greatness  of  the  achievement  was  commemo- 
rated by  the  renewal  of  a vow  or  treaty  as  in  the  earlier 
age,  as  if  by  a violent  eflbrt  to  bind  the  people  to  their 
better  thoughts.  This  Solemn  League  and  Covenant  ” 
for  the  suppression  of  filthy  and  cruel  rites,  remote  as  it. 
is  from  our  age  and  feeling,  breathed  a more  exalted 
spirit  than  that  which,  nearer  to  our  own  days  (and  no 
doubt  in  imitation  of  this  earliest  form  of  it),  bound  the 
Scottish  nation  to  deadly  war  against  a particular  form 
of  ecclesiastical  government. 

What  Asa  had  begun,  Jehoshaphat  continued,  by 
endeavoring,  as  it  would  seem,  to  supply  some  Reforms  of 

. 1 • n 1 • 1 Jehosha- 

permanent  counterpoise  to  the  influences  which  phat. 
had  so  deeply  degraded  his  kingdom.  For  the  first 
time  we  distinctly  hear  of  regular  judicial  and  educar 
tional  functions  in  the  Jewish  Church  founded  on  the 
^^Book  of  the  Law.” Words  spoken,  sung,  shouted, 
with  inspired  force,  we  have  heard  before.  This  is  the 
first  recorded  example,  since  the  Decalogue,  of  such  in- 
junctions being  committed  to  writing.  In  the  commis- 
sion which  the  King  issued  for  the  purpose  of  expound* 

I 1 Kings  XV.  13  ; 2 Chron.  xv.  2 R Jg  only  mer.tioned  in  2 Chron.  xvik. 
16.  7-9  ; xix.  5-11. 


TOL.  II. 


28 


434 


THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 


LEtt  XXXV. 


ing  the  principles  of  the  Book  of  the  Lrav,”  four  great 
officers  of  the  court  and  camp  ^ stand  first,  and  the  nine 
Levites  and  two  priests  are  associated  with  them.  The 
wliole  measure  implies  a sense  of  the  moral  needs  of 
the  nation.  The  stern  address  of  the  82d  Psalm  to  the 
judges  of  Israel,  even  if  not  actually  called  forth  by 
this  step,  corresponds  precisely  with  the  appeal  of  Je- 
hoshaphat.  That  Divine  character,  which  in  the  Old 
Testament  is  ascribed  to  judges,  even  more  than  to 
kings,  prophets,  or  priests,  is  solemnly  made  the  founda- 
tion of  the  lesson  conveyed  to  them.^  The  Divine  right 
by  which  they  are  to  pronounce  judgment  is  expressly 
mentioned,  not  as  a warrant  for  their  absolute  authority, 
but  as  a necessity  for  their  doing  their  duty.  If  we  may 
safely  interpret  the  indications  given  in  the  Chronicles, 
Jehoshaphat  was  here,  as  elsewhere,  following  up  the 
great  religious  reaction  which  Asa  had  commenced,  and 
which  the  only  two  prophets  who  appear  during  this 
crisis  of  the  monarchy  recommend.  The  aggregation 
of  prophets  in  the  kingdom  of  Samaria  had  kept  alive 
the  fire  of  the  true  religion  there,  even  in  the  face  of 
the  severest  persecutions.  To  supply  this  void  in  the 
kingdom  of  Jerusalem,  the  new  spiritual  and  moral  de- 
velopment now  given  to  the  Levitical  priesthood  could 
not  but  have  a peculiar  importance. 

That  importance  was  to  be  brought  to  light  in  an 
Athaliah.  unexpected  turn  taken  by  this  national  strug- 
B.  c.  883.  ^ Jehoshaphat  himself,  by 

his  alliance  with  the  house  of  Omri,  had  unconsciously 
prepared  the  way.  We  have  reached  the  eve  of  a great 
revolution  and  counter-revolution,  which  alone  of  all  the 
events  in  the  history  of  the  kingdom  of  Judah  possesses 

1 The  word  = military  offi-  2 Ps.  Ixxxii.  6.  See  Lecture  XV JI 

cer,  2 Chr.  xvii.  7. 


Lect.  XXXV. 


ATHALIAH. 


436 


the  dramatic  interest  belonging  to  so  many  other  parts 
of  the  sacred  story,  and  which  is  told  with  a vividness 
of  detail,  implying  its  lasting  significance,  and  contrast- 
ing remarkably  with  the  scanty  outlines  of  the  earlier 
reigns. 

The  friendly  policy  of  the  two  royal  houses  had 
culminated  in  the  marriage  of  Jehoram,  the  son  of 
Jehoshaphat,  with  Athaliah,  the  daughter  of  Ahab.^  In 
her,  the  fierce  determined  energy  which  ran  through 
the  Phoenician  princes  and  princesses  of  that  generation 
— Jezebel,  Dido,  Pygmalion — was  fully  developed.  Al- 
ready in  her  husband’s  reign,  the  worship  of  Baal  was 
restored ; and  when  the  tidings  reached  Jerusalem  of 
the  overthrow  of  her  father’s  house,  of  the  dreadful  end 
of  her  mother,  and  of  the  fall  of  her  ancestral  religion 
in  Samaria,  instead  of  daunting  her  resolute  spirit,  it 
moved  her  to  a still  grander  effort,^ 

It  was  a critical  moment  for  the  house  of  David. 
Once  from  a struggle  within  the  royal  household  itself, 
a second  time  from  an  invasion  of  Arabs,  a third  time 
from  the  revolution  in  the  massacres  of  Jehu’s  accession, 
the  dynasty  had  been  thinned  and  thinned,  till  all  the 
outlying  branches  of  those  vast  polygamous  households 
had  been  reduced  to  the  single  family  of  Ahaziah.^ 
Ahaziah  himself  had  perished  with  his  uncle  on  the 
plain  of  Esdraelon,  and  now,  ^Svhen  Athaliah  saw  that 
“Ahaziah  was  dead,  she  arose  and  destroyed  all  the 
“ seed-royal.”  ^ The  whole  race  of  David  seemed  to  be 
swept  away.  Whoever  the  princes  were  who  were 
called  ® “ her  sons,”  they  joined  with  her  in  opposition 

1 2 Kings  viii.  18,  26;  2 Chr.  xxi.  3 2 Chr.  xxi.  4, 17;  2 Kings  x.  14 
5 ; xxii.  2.  4 2 Kings  xi.  1. 

9 2 Kings  xi.  2 ; 2 Chr.  xxii.  10.  ® Joseph.  Ant.  ix.  7,  § 1. 


436 


THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 


Lect.  XXXV. 


to  the  fallen  d^niasty.^  The  worship  of  Baal,  uprooted 
by  Jehu  in  Samaria,  sprang  up  in  Jerusalem  with  re- 
newed vigor,  as  in  its  native  soil.  The  adherents  of 
Baal,  exiled  from  the  northern  kingdom,  no  doubt  took 
refuge  in  the  south.  The  Temple  became  a quarry  for 
the  rival  sanctuary.  The  stones  and  the  sacred  vessels 
were  employed  to  build  or  to  adorn  the  Temple  of 
Baal,  which  rose,  as  it  would  seem,“  even  within  the 
Temple  precincts,  with  its  circle  of  statues,  and  its 
sacred  altars,  before  which  ministered  the  only  priest 
of  that  religion  whose  name  has  been  preserved  to  us, 
— Mattan. 

But  as,  before,  the  Pagan  worship  had  coexisted  with 
the  established  worship  in  the  Temple,  so  now  the 
ancient  worship  continued  side  by  side  with  that  of  the 
Pagan  sanctuary.  There  was  no  persecution  of  the 
Priests  in  Judah  corresponding  to  that  of  the  Prophets 
in  Israel ; and  at  the  head  of  the  priesthood  was  a man 
of  commanding  position  and  character  who,  by  a union 
without  precedent,  had  (at  least  according  to  one  ac- 
count) intermarried  with  the  royal  family.  His  wife, 
Jehosheba,^  was  the  daughter  of  Joram.  In  the  general 
massacre  of  the  princes,  one  boy,  still  a babe  in  arms, 
had  been  rescued  by  Jehosheba.  The  child  and  nurse 
had  first  been  concealed  in  the  store-room  of  mattresses 
in  the  palace,  and  then  in  the  Temple  under  the  pro- 

1 2 Chr.  xxiv.  7.  By  such  a daring  esses,  Elisheba  the  wife  of  Aaron 
let  the  half-Jewish  Queen  of  Abys-  (called  in  the  LXX.  Elisabeth),  and 
slnia,  Esther,  secured  her  power  Elisabeth  the  wife  of  Zechariah.  Both 
(Harris,  Ethiopian  Highlands^  iii.  6).  have  the  same  meaning,  — “ the  oath 

2 2 Kings  xi.  18;  2 Clir.  xxili.  17,  of  Jehovah  ” or  “ of  God.”  Josephus, 

18.  {Ant.  ix.  7,  § 2)  makes  her  the 

3 Jehosheba  in  2 Kings  xi.  2,  daughter  of  Joram,  not  by  Athaliah 
Jehoshabeath  in  2 Chr.  xxii.  11.  The  — ogonarpta  Oxoaia.  She  is  called 
same  variation  appears  in  the  names  the  wife  of  Jeholada  in  2 Chr.  xxii 
&f  the  two  other  celebrated  priest  11  only. 


LacT.  XXXV. 


ATHALIAH. 


437 


tection  of  her  husband  Jehoiada  and  with  her  own 
children.  He  was  known  as  the  king’s  son.”  ^ The 
^Hight  of  David”  was  burnt  down  to  its  socket,  but 
there  it  still  flickered.  The  stem  of  Jesse  was  cut  down 
to  the  very  roots ; one  tender  shoot  was  all  that  re- 
mained. On  him  rested  the  whole  hope  of  carrying  on 
the  lineage  of  David.  For  six  years  they  waited.^  In 
the  seventh  year  of  Athaliah’s  reign,  Jehoiada  pre- 
pared his  measures  for  his  great  stroke.  Every  step 
was  taken  in  accordance  with  the  usages  which  had 
been  gradually  gaining  head  during  the  previous  reigns, 
and  all  the  means  which  his  offlce  placed  at  his  disposal 
were  freely  employed.  He  placed  himself  first  in  direct 
communication  with  the  five  officers  of  the  royal  guard, 
now,  as  in  David’s  time,  consisting  partly  of  foreigners, 
amongst  whom  the  Carian  mercenaries  were  conspicu- 
ous.® These  he  bound  over  to  his  cause  by  a solemn 
oath.  The  Chronicler  adds  that  a body  ^ of  armed  Le- 
vi tes  was  also  introduced  into  the  Temple.  They  were 
encouraged  by  an  ancient  prediction:  Behold  the 

king’s  son  shall  reign.”  ^ 

The  High  Priest  thus  arranged  the  operations.  It 
was  on  the  Sabbath-day  apparently  that  the 

Revolution 

stroke  was  to  be  struck.  The  guards  (or  the  of  Jehoiada 
Levites)  were  divided  into  two  great  bodies. 

The  first  consisted  of  those  who  mounted  guard  on  the 
Sabbath-day,  as  the  Kings  went  to  the  Temple.  These 

1 2 Kings  xi.  12  ; 2 Chr.  xxlii.  3.  ners,”  as  in  1 Sam.  xxii.  17;  2 Kings 

2 2 Kings  xi.  4 ; 2 Chr.  xxiii.  1.  x.  25,  &e.  (Ewald,  hi.  575.) 

3 2 Kings  xi.  4.  The  word  trans-  4 2 Chr.  xxiii.  2.  The  Chronicler 
lated  “ captains  ” is  hac-Care  (the  (ver.  4,  5)  ascribes  to  these  almost 
Carians),  occurring  only  here  and  in  (2  Chr.  xxiii.  1)  all  that  2 Kings  xL 
2 Sam.  XX.  23,  apparently  the  same  4-13  ascribes  to  the  guard.  Whilst  2 
as  Cerethltes,  2 Sam.  xx.  7.  The  Kings  xi.  4 omits  the  Levites,  2 Chr 
word  translated  “guard”  is  “run-  xxiii.  6 wholly  excludes  the  gua;  ds. 

5 2 Chr.  xxiii.  8. 


438 


THE  EIKST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 


Lect.  XXXV 


were  to  keep  their  usual  position,  in  three  detachments . 
the  first  at  the  porch  of  the  palace,  the  second  at  one 
of  the  Temple  gates,  called  the  gate  of  the  foundation; 
the  third  at  another,  called,  doubtless  from  its  being  the 
usual  halting-place  of  the  guards,  the  “gate^  of  the  run- 
ners.” These  were  to  keep  their  places  to  avoid  suspi- 
cion. The  second  division  consisted  of  those  who  at- 
tended the  Kings  to  the  Temple.  These,  on  the  present 
occasion,  were  to  place  themselves  on  the  right  and  left 
hand  of  the  young  King,  inside  the  Temple,  in  order 
to  protect  his  person,  and  to  put  to  death  any  one  who 
came  within  the  circle  of  rails  which  inclosed  the  royal 
seat  or  stand.  As  soon  as  they  had  effected  their 
entrance,  they  were  furnished  by  Jehoiada  with  the 
spears  and  shields  that,  as  relics  of  David’s  time,  hung 
somewhere  within  the  sacred  precincts,  just  as  his  pred- 
ecessor Abimelech  had  furnished  to  David  himself  the 
sword  of  Goliath.  Equipped  with  these  weapons,  by 
which  the  throne  was  once  more  to  be  won  back  to 
David’s  house,  they  took  up  their  position. 

The  little  Prince  then  appeared  on  the  royal  plat- 
form, apparently  raised  on  a pillar  near  the  gate  lead- 
ing into  the  inner  court.^  It  is  the  first  direct  example 
ff  a coronation.  The  diadem,^  which  was  probably  a 
band  studded  with  jewels,  was  placed  on  his  head  by 
the  High  Priest,  and  upon  it  the  sacred  Testimony,”^ 
which  in  the  reign  of  Jehoshaphat  had  been  raised 
into  new  importance.  It  seems  like  the  intimation  of 

1 2 Kings  xi.  19.  It  is  a different  word  from  the 

2 Ibid.  xi.  14;  2 Chr.  xxiii.  13;  “golden  crown”  of  David  and  Sol- 
Joseph.  Ant.  ix.  7,  § 3 ; and  comp.  omon. 

Ezek,  xlvi.  2,  2 Kings  xvi.  18,  ^ 2 Kings  xi.  12  ; 2 Chr.  xxiii.  11. 

ixiii.  3.  Whatever  this  was,  it  was  probably 

3 2 Sam.  i.  10 ; Ex.  xxix.  16 ; Ps.  the  same  as  the  “ Book  of  the  Law 


Lbct.  XXXV. 


ATHALIAH. 


439 


a limitation  in  the  King’s  despotic  power,  — - an  indica* 
tion  that  he  was  to  be  not,  like  David,  above,  but 
beneath  the  law  of  his  country.  He  was  then  anointed 
with  the  sacred  oil.^  The  bystanders,  whether  guards 
or  people,  clapped  their  hands  together  and  raised  the 
national  shout,  “ Long  live  the  King ! ” The  sound 
reached  Athaliah  in  her  palace.  She  came  at  once 
into  the  Temple,  as  it  would  seem,  with  the  same  high 
spirit  that  had  marked  tlie  last  days  of  her  mother,  un- 
guarded and  alone.  Both  accounts  give  us,  in  almost 
the  same  words,  the  scene  that  burst  upon  her. 

Behold”  — the  little  child — now  no  longer  the  King’s 
son  or  the  unknowm  foundling,  but  the  King,”  — 
stood  on  his  platform,  at  the  gate  of  the  court. 
Beside  him  were  the  officers  of  the  guard,  the  trump- 
eters whose  office  it  was  to  announce  the  royal  inaugu- 
ration. The  Temple  court  was  crowded  with  specta- 
tors ; they,  too,  took  part  in  the  celebration,  and  them- 
selves prolonged  the  trumpet-blast,  blended  with  the 
musical  instruments  of  the  Temple  service.^  She  saw 
in  a moment  that  the  fatal  hour  was  come.  She  rent 
her  royal  robes,  and  cried  out,  in  the  words  always 
applied  to  treason : Conspiracy,  conspiracy ! ” The 

voice  of  the  High  Priest  was  the  first  to  be  heard 
ordering  the  officers  to  drag  her  out  from  the  precincts. 
So  strict  was  the  reverence  to  the  Temple,  that  she 
passed  all  through  the  long  array  of  armed  Levites 
and  exulting  multitudes,  out  through  the  eastern  gate 
into  the  Kedron  valley,'^  before  they  fell  upon  her,  and 

1 By  whom,  is  not  clearly  ex-  to  the  Chronicler  (2  Chr.  xxiii.  11), 
[.ressed;  according  to  the  present  by  Jehoiada  and  his  sons. 

Hebrew  text  of  Kings  (xi.  12),  by  ^2  Kings  xi.  14;  2 Chr.  xxiii  13. 

the  people;  according  to  the  LXX.  3 2 Kings  xi.  15,  16;  2 Chr.  xxiii 

the  same,  by  Jehoiada;  according  14, 15. 

4 Joseph.  Ant.  ix.  7,  § 4k. 


410 


THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 


Lect.  XXXV 


not  till  she  reaclicfl  a spot  known  as  the  “ road  or  gate 
^^of  the  horses,”  or  ^^of  the  royal  mules,”’  was  the  blow 
struck  whicli  ended  lier  life. 

Then  again  took  place  one  of  the  ^‘covenants”  or 
pledges”  of  that  age,  — a league,  as  it  were,  between 
King  and  people,  between  the  King  and  the  true 
religion,  as  a consecration  for  a crusade  against  the 
fidse  worship.  As  in  Samaria  under  Jehu,  six  years 
before,  so  here  in  Judea,  the  Temple  of  Baal,  with  its 
altars  and  statues,  Avas  shattered  to  pieces  by  the  popu- 
lar fuiy.  In  front  of  the  altars  fell  the  Priest  of  Baal, 
Mattan.  Guards  were  placed  over  the  Temple,  so  as 
to  prevent  any  rapine  ; and  then  in  a long  procession, 
formed  of  the  officers,  the  guards,  and  the  multitude 
Avho  had  taken  part  in  the  proceedings  of  the  day,  the 
bo}^  was  brought  down  from  the  Temple,  by  the  cause- 
way through  Avhich  the  guards  usually  preceded  the 
King  to  and  from  the  palace.  He  was  brought  into 
the  palace,  and  seated  on  the  golden  throne  within 
the  high  gateway,”  — the  throne  of  the  Kings  of 
‘^Judah.2  ” 

“And  the  city  was  in  quiet,”  and  so  ended  the 
troubled  scenes  of  the  first  Sabbath  of  Avhich  any 
detailed  account  is  preserved  to  us  in  the  Sacred 
Eecords. 

The  restoration  of  the  house  of  David  after  such  a 
narrow  escape  of  total  destruction  was  in  itself  a 
marked  epoch  in  the  Jewish  nation  ; and  much  in  the 
same  way  as  in  the  like  period  of  English  history, 
when  there  was  so  strong  an  anxiety  to  secure  an 
undoubted  heir  to  the  throne,  so  now  it  is 
emphatically  recorded  that  Jehoiada  lost  no 
time  in  securing  a succession  to  the  throne  of  Judah. 

^ Joseph.  Anl.  ix.  7,  § 4.  ^ 2 Kings  xi.  19. 


Lbct.  XXXV. 


JOASH. 


44i 


Jehoiada  took  for  Joash  two  wives,  and  lie  begat  sons 
^^and  daughters.”^  But  the  peculiar  circumstances  of 
the  restoration  were  also  fraught  with  an  interest  of 
their  own.  The  part  played  by  Jehoiada  raised  the 
Priesthood  to  an  importance  which  (with  the  single 
exception  of  Eli)  it  had  never  before  attained  in  the 
history  of  the  Jewish  nation,  and  which  it  never  after- 
wards altogether  lost.  Through  the  Priesthood  the 
lineage  of  David  had  been  saved,  and  the  worship  of 
Jehovah  restored^  in  Judah,  even  more  successfully 
than  it  had  been  in  Samaria  through  the  Prophets. 
During  the  minority  of  Joash,  Jehoiada  virtually 
reigned.  The  very  office  was  in  some  sense  created 
by  himself  The  name  of  High  Priest,”  which  had 
not  been  given  to  Aaron,  or  Eli,  or  Zadok,  w^as  given  ^ 
to  him,  and  afterwards  continued  to  his  successors.  He 
was  regarded  as  a second  founder  of  the  order,  so  that 
in  after-days  he,  rather  than  Aaron,  is  described  as  the 
chieffi 

The  first  object  was  to  restore  the  Temple  itself 
Its  treasures  had  been  given  away  piecemeal  to  invad- 
ers, even  by  the  most  devout  of  the  Kings,  and  had 
been  plundered  twice  over  by  the  Egyptians  and  Arabs. 
Its  very  foundations  had  been  injured  by  the  agents 
of  Athaliah^  in  removing  its  stones  for  her  own  tem- 
ple. To  Joash,  who  alone  of  the  Princes  of  the  house 
of  David  had  been  actually  brought  up  within  the 
Temple  walls,  the  reparation  of  its  venerable  Reforms  of 
fabric  was  naturally  the  first  object.  From 

1 2 Chr.  xxiv.  3.  is  the  doubtful  one  of  Jehoiada  the 

2 Ibid,  xxiii.  18, 19.  This  is  omitted  fatlier  of  Benaiah,  in  1 Chr.  xxvii.  i 

in  2 Kino;s  xi.  (“  the  head  Priest  ”). 

3 2 Kings  xii.  10.  Down  to  this  4 Jer.  xxix.  26. 
time  the  chief  of  the  order  had  been  5 2 Chr.  xxiv.  7. 

“ The  Priest.”  The  only  exception 


442 


THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 


Lect.  XXXV 


him,  as  it  would  seem,  and  not  from  Jehoiada,  the  chief 
impulse  proceeded.  “Joash  was  minded  to  restore 

the  house  of  the  Lord.”  The  repairing  of  the  house 
‘^of  the  Lord”  is  mentioned  as  one  of  the  great  acts 
of  his  reign.^  And  it  is  instructive  to  see  that  the 
elevation  of  the  moral  above  the  ceremonial  law,  which 
characterized  the  best  traditions  of  the  Jewish  nation, 
made  itself  felt  even  in  the  King  who  might,  most  of 
all,  have  been  thought  a mere  nursling  and  instrument 
of  the  sacerdotal  caste.  When,  from  some  unexplained 
cause,  the  Priests  had  failed  to  appropriate  the  contri- 
bution to  its  proper  purpose,  the  whole  hierarchy,  with 
Jehoiada  ^ at  their  head,  met  with  a mild  yet  decided 
rebuke  from  the  King,  and  a measure  was  agreed  upon, 
very  similar  to  those  which  have  taken  place  in  mod- 
ern times  on  the  suspicion  of  maladministration  of 
ecclesiastical  property.  The  administration  of  the  funds 
was  removed  from  the  hands  of  the  delinquent  order. 
All  future  contributions  were  deposited  in  a public 
chest,  placed  close  to  the  great  altar®  in  the  Temple 
court,  and  were  audited,  so  to  speak,  not  only  by  the 
High  Priest,  but  by  the  royal  secretary  ^ in  the 
presence  of  public  officers.  The  measure  completely 
answered.  Confidence  was  restored,  contributions 
flowed  in,  the  workmen  could  be  implicitly  trusted, 
and  the  repairs  went  on  in  this  and  the  succeeding 
reigns  at  a rapid  pace.  Nothing  was  spent®  on  mere 
ornaments  — everything  was  devoted  to  the  solid  re- 
pair of  the  fabric. 

1 2 Chr  xxiv.  4,  27.  in  2 Chr.  xxiv.  8,  and  the  chest  is 

2 2 Kings  xii.  7.  In  2 Chr.  xxiv.  placed  at  the  outer  gate. 

6,  6,  only  Jehoiada  and  the  Levites,  ^ 2 Kings  xii.  10;  2 Chr.  xxiv.  11. 
not  the  Priests.  6 2 Kings  xii.  13.  This  is  con* 

3 2 Kings  xii.  9.  This  is  omitted  tradicted  in  2 Chr.'xxiii.  12,  13,  14 

and  probably  by  implication  in  7. 


. Lkct.  XXXV. 


JOASH. 


443 


In  spite  of  this  unpleasant  suspicion,  there  was  no 
open  rupture  between  the  King  and  the  Priestly  order 
60  long  as  his  benefactor  Jehoiada  lived.  Their  joint 
rule,  almost  as  of  father  and  son,  must  have  resembled 
the  one  parallel  in  the  Christian  Church,  when  Michael 
Romanoff  as  Czar,  and  his  father  Philaret  as  Patriarch 
of  Moscow,  ruled  the  church  and  state  of  Russia. 
Jehoiada  lived  to  a great  old  age,^  and  on  his  peathof 
death  his  services,  as  preserver  of  the  royal 
dynasty  and  as  restorer  of  the  Temple  worship,  were 
esteemed  so  highly,  that  he  received  an  honor  allowed 
to  no  other  subject  in  the  Jewish  monarchy.  He  was 
buried  in  state  within  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,^  in  the 
royal  sepulchres. 

The  reign  of  Joash,  which  had  been, lit  up  by  so 
romantic  a beginning,  was  darkened  by  a tragical  end. 
Though  only  told  in  the  Chronicles,  it  agrees  so  well 
with  human  nature,  and  with  the  circumstances  of  the 
case,  that  it  deserves  close  consideration. 

On  Jehoiada’s  death,  the  Jewish  aristocracy,  who 
perhaps  had  never  been  free  from  the  licentious  and 
idolatrous  taint  introduced  by  Rehoboam,  and  confirmed 
by  Athaliah,  and  who  may  well  have  been  galled  by  the 
new  rise  of  the  Priestly  order,  presented  themselves  be- 
fore Joash,  and  offered  him  the  same  obsequious  homage 
that  had  been  paid  by  the  young  nobles  to  Rehoboam. 
He,  irritated,  it  may  be,  by  the  ambiguous  conduct  of 
the  Priests  in  the  affair  of  the  restoration  of  the  Temple, 
and  feeling  himself  released  from  personal  obligations 
by  the  death  of  his  adopted  father,  threw  himself  into 
their  hands.  Athaliah  was  avenged  almost  on  the  spot 
where  she  had  been  first  seized  by  her  enemies.  That 

1 For  the  difficulties  attending  the  xxiv.  15,  to  be  130,  see  Lord  Arthur 
age  of  Jehoiada,  stated,  in  2 Chr.  Hervey’s  Genealoqies.  X).  113 

2 2 Chr.  xxiv.  16. 


44  i THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH.  Lect.  XXXV. 

fierce  blood  which  she  had  inherited  from  her  parents 
ran  in  the  veins  of  her  grandson  : — 

Indocile'a  ton  fatigue  de  ta  loi, 

Fidele  au  sang  d’Aliab  qu’il  a re9u  de  moi, 

Conforme  son  aienl,  a son  pere  semblable, 

On  verra  de  David  I’heritier  detestable 
Abolir  tes  lionnenrs,  profaner  ton  autel, 

Et  venger  Atlialie,  Aliab,  et  Jezabel.^ 

So  Athaliali  is  well  conceived  as  predicting  the  futare 
of  Joash  on  the  day  of  her  first  encounter  with  him. 
Once  more  the  degrading  worship  of  Baal  and  Astarte 
appeared  in  Judah.  Against  this  apostasy  Prophetic 
warnings^  were  raised,  now  more  common  in  Judah  than 
a century  before.  One  of  these  came  from  a quarter 
which,  from  the  King  at  least,  ought  to  have  commanded 
respect.  With  Joash,  when  a child  in  the  Temple,  had 
been  brought  up  the  sons  of  Jehoiada.  One  of  these, 
Zechariah,^  had  succeeded  his  father  in  the  office  of  High 
Priest.  On  him,  as  he  stood  high  above  the  worship- 
pers in  the  Temple,  the  Prophetic  spirit  descended ; and 
Murder  of  broke  out  iiito  a vehement  remonstrance 
Zechariah.  j^g^Jnst  the  dcscrtion  of  the  God  of  their 
fathers.  At  the  command  of  the  King,  when  he  heard 
of  this  — it  may  be,  at  his  hasty  words,  like  those  of  our 
Henry  II.  — the  nobles  or  the  people  rushed  upon 
Zechariah,  and  with  stones  — probably  from  the  Temple 
repairs  — stoned  him  to  death.  His  last  words  were 
remembered,^  — Jehovah,  look  upon  it,  and  require  it.” 
The  spot  wffiere  he  fell  was  traditionally  shown  in  the 
sacred  space  between  the  great  porch  of  the  Temple  and 
the  brazen  altar.  The  act  produced  a profound  impres- 
sion. It  was  a later  Jewish  tradition,  but  one  which 

1 Racine,  Athalie,  Act  V.  Scene  6.  3 2 Chr.  xxiv.  20  (LXX.  Azariah) 

2 '•'■Burdens  were  many,”  2 Chr.  and  see  1 Chr.  vi.  11. 

XXV.  27.  ^ Ibid.  xxiv.  22;  Matt.  xxii.  35. 


L*cr.  XXXV. 


MURDER  OF  ZECHARIAH. 


446 


marks  the  popular  feeling,  that  this  crowning  crime  of 
the  house  of  Judah  took  place  on  the  Sabbath-day,  on 
the  great  Day  of  Atonement,  and  that  its  marks  were 
never  to  be  effaced.  It  was  believed  that  when  the 
Babylonian  general  entered  the  Temple  on  the  day  of 
its  capture,  he  saw  blood  bubbling  up  from  the  pave- 
ment, and  on  being  told  that  it  was  the  blood  of  calves, 
rams,  and  lambs,  he  slew  an  animal  of  each  kind  on  the 
spot.  Their  blood  bubbled  not,  but  that  still  bubbled 
on.  They  then  told  him  that  it  was  a Prophet,  Priest, 
and  J udge,  who  had  foretold  all  that  they  had  suffered 
from  him,  and  who  had  been  murdered  by  them.  Neb- 
uzaradan  then  slew  on  the  place,  by  thousands,  the 
rabbis,  school-children,  and  young  priests,  yet  still  it  was 
not  quiet.  Then  he  said,  0 Zechariah,  Zechariah,  thou 
^^hast  destroyed  the  best  of  thy  people,  wouldst  thou 
" have  me  destroy  all  ? ” Then  it  ceased  to  bubble.^ 
The  sacredness  of  the  person  ^ and  of  the  place,  the  con- 
current guilt  of  the  whole  nation,  — king,  nobles,  and 
people,  — the  ingratitude  of  the  chief  instigator,  the 
culmination  of  the  long  tragedy  of  the  house  of  Omri, 
the  position  which  the  story  held  in  the  Jewish  Canon, 
as  the  last  great  murder  in  the  last  book  ^ of  the  Old 
Testament,  all  conspired  to  give  it  the  peculiar  signifi- 
cance with  which  it  is  recorded  in  the  Gospels  as  closing 
the  catalogue  of  unrighteous  deaths  “ from  the  blood  of 
‘^righteous  Abel  to  the  blood  of  Zechariah^  . . . who 
was  slain  between  the  Temple  and  the  altar.”  It  is  a 


1 Talmud,  Taanith,  quoted  by 
Lightfoot  on  Matt,  xxili.  35. 

2 In  Mussulman  traditions  he  is 
onfounded  not  only  with  Zechariah, 

ihe  father  of  John  the  Baptist,  but 
Kith  John  himself  (Jelaladdin,  292). 


3 The  Chronicles,  which  stand  last 
in  the  Jewish  Canon. 

4 Luke  xi.  51;  Matt,  xxiii.  35. 
“Jelioiada”  was  read  in  the  Naza- 
rene  Gospel.  Barachiah  was  probably 
substituted  to  accommodate  it  to  the 
murder  in  Joseph.  B.  J.  iv.  6,  § 8. 


416 


THE  FIRST  KINGS  OF  JUDAH. 


Lect.  XXXV. 


Btnking  instance  of  the  high  tone  even  of  the  most 
sacerdotal  of  the  sacred  books,  that  the  judgment  which 
fell  on  Joash  was  believed  to  have  descended,  not  be- 
cause he  had  murdered  a High  Priest,  hut  because  he 
had  broken  one  of  the  eternal  laws  of  natural  affection, 
— “he  remembered  not  the  kindness  which  Jehoiada 
“his  father  had  done  to  him,  but  slew  his  son.”^ 

The  formidable  Syrian  king,  Ilazael,  not  content  with 
his  ravages  of  the  northern  kingdom,  made  a sudden 
descent  on  the  south.  Not  Jerusalem  itself,  but  its 
Philistine  dependency  Gath,  was  his  first  object.  In 
this  he  succeeded,  and  then  turned  towards  Jerusalem. 
A disgraceful  defeat  ensued.  A large  army  of  Jews  fled 
before  a small  army  of  Syrians.  Many  of  the  aristoc- 
racy perished,  or  were  taken  prisoners.  The  conqueror 
was  only  bought  off  from  Jerusalem  by  the  surrender 
of  all  the  sacred  treasures  which  had  been  accumulated 
since  the  last  confiscation  of  them  for  a like  object  by 
Asa.^  The  King  sank  into  the  languor  of  complicated 
disease,  and,  whilst  he  was  in  this  state,  he  was  attacked 
on  his  bed,  in  the  fortress  of  Millo,  by  two  of  his  guards, 
whose  names  are  variously  given,  — of  Ammonite  and 
Moabite  extraction,^ — to  avenge  the  blood  of  Zechariah. 
It  was  not  till  his  son  Amaziah  was  firmly  seated  on  the 
throne  that  the  murderers  were  punished ; and  then 
(with  a mercy  shown  apparently  ^ for  the  first  time  in 
the  Hebrew  annals)  their  children  were  spared.  Joash 
himself,  according  to  the  more  favorable  version,  was 
buried  in  the  royal  sepulchres ; according  to  the  darker 
view  of  his  reign,  he  was  excluded  from  them,  though 
his  corpse  was  allowed  to  remain  within  the  walls  of  the 
city  of  David.^ 

1 2 Chr.  xxiv.  22.  3 2 Kings  xii.  21  ; 2 Chr.  xxiv.  26. 

2 2 Kings  xii.  17,  18  ; 2 Chr.  xxiv.  ^ Ibid.  xiv.  6 ; xxv.  4. 

23,24.  Comp.  1 Kings  xv.  18.  5 Comp.  2 Kings  xii.  21  with  2 


Lect.  XXXV.  PRESERVATION  OF  TEIE  HOUSE  OF  DAVID.  447 

So  ended  the  last  remains  of  the  great  struggle  of 
the  House  of  Omri  for  power.  So  was  preserved  the 
House  of  David  through  the  fiercest  struggles,  inward 
and  outward,  that  is  witnessed  till  its  final  overthrov/. 
So  was  confirmed  the  establishment  of  the  Priesthood  in 
the  heart  of  the  monarchy. 

Chr.  xxiv.  25,  Verse  27  of  the  latter  The  LXX.  reads  “the  jive^  and 
refers  to  the  numerous  prophetic  makes  it  that  amongst  the  conspiratow 
“ burdens  " launched  against  the  King,  were  his  sons  and  the  five. 


LECTURE  XXXVI. 

THE  JEWISH  riHESTHOOD. 


The  character  and  history  of  the  Prophetic  office  has 
been  already  descril)edd  The  time  is  now  reached  when 
another  and  very  difl'erent  institution  comes  into  view, 
not  for  the  fi^'st  time,  but  with  the  first  direct  demand 
upon  our  attention,  as  a ruling  power  in  the  State  and 
Church  of  Judah. 

Of  all  the  ordinances  of  sacred  antiquity,  the  Priest- 
hood  is  perhaps  the  one  in  which  “ the  faculty  of  seeing 
difierences”  is  the  most  needed.  The  use  of  the  same 
name  ^ in  most  European  languages  for  this  office,  and 


1 See  Lectures  XIX.,  XX. 

2 The  Hebrew  word  Cohen  (of 
which  the  exact  meaning  is  unknown) 
corresponds,  tliough  with  some  im- 
portant differences,  to  the  Greek 
Hiereus  and  the  Latin  sacerdos.  But 
m English,  German,  Italian,  Spanish, 
and  ordinary  French,  these  words  are 
rendered  by  Priest^  or  the  cognate 
words  derived  from  the  Greek  Pres- 
byter^ “ elder  ” — which  designates  an 
office,  both  in  the  Old  and  New  Tes- 
tament, quite  different  from  that  of 
the  Cohen ^ and  which  in  common 
Greek  has  no  connection  at  all  with 
religious  functions.  This  confusion 
has  further  been  increased  by  the 
application  of  the  word  “ Priest  ” in 
tnost  modern  languages,  not  only  to 
the  Jewish  Cohen,  but  to  the  second 
»f  the  three  orders  of  the  Christian 


clergy.  It  is  true  that  in  the  Pres- 
byterian Churches  of  Scotland  and 
Germany,  the  word  is  not  applied  to 
their  own  ministers.  But  even  by 
them  it  is  applied  to  the  clergy  of  the 
Greek  and  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
who  apply  it  also  to  themselves. 
The  English  Protestant  version  has 
avoided  this  confusion  by  using  the 
word  “ elder  ” as  the  translation  of 
Presbyter,  and  the  word  “ Priest  ” 
only  as  the  translation  of  Hiereus. 
But  the  English  Roman  Catholic 
version  (Douay),  whilst  it  occasionally 
translated  Presbyter  by  “ ancient,” 
has  often  translated  it  by  “ Priest,” 
the  same  word  that  it  employs  for 
the  translation  of  Hiereus.  In  the 
French  Protestant  version,  the  use  of 
sacrificateur  for  Hiereus  and  Cohere 
has  avoided  this  confusion,  though 


I.ECT.  XXXVI. 


ITS  ORIGIN. 


449 


one  or  more  functions  in  the  Christian  Church,  has  led 
to  a confused  notion  of  an  identity  in  substance,  which 
neither  the  original  word  nor  the  actual  circumstances 
of  the  case  warrant.  The  Prophetical  office,  as  we  have 
seen,^  reached  out  of  the  Old  Testament  into  the  New, 
and  has,  to  a certain  extent,  been  continued  to  the 
Christian  Church.  But,  as  an  institution,  the  power  of 
the  Jewish  Priesthood  passed  away  at  the  close  of  the 
Jewish  dispensation.  The  Prophetic  office  contained  in 
it  elements  in  their  own  nature  universal  and  eternal. 
The  Jewish  Priesthood  was  essentially  Oriental,  local, 
national,  temporary. 

Still  in  that  limited  sphere  it  had  an  important  part 
to  play,  and  the  particular  period  of  the  history  on 
which  we  have  now  entered,  called  forth  some  of  its 
most  striking  characteristics.  But  its  origin  Ori^nof 
goes  back  to  the  earliest  times.  The  Mosaic  hood, 
ritual,  however  much  we  may  question  the  antiquity  of 
some  of  its  details,  contains,  no  doubt,  the  groundwork 
on  Avhich  the  subsequent  system  was  founded.  The 
first  appearance  of  the  Jewish  Priesthood  is  marked  by 
its  coincidence  with  the  two  phases  of  life  which  co- 
existed at  the  time  of  the  Exodus.  There  was  no 
Priestly  caste  at  all  till  they  had  been  familiarized  with 
such  an  institution  in  Egypt.  And  its  peculiar  character 
w<as  stamped  upon  it  whilst  the  people  were  still  pasto- 
ral, and  while  the  tribe  ^ was  still  in  full  force  as  a com- 
ponent part  of  the  nation,  when  the  manners  of  the 
people  were  still  moulded  in  the  fierce  and  hard  temper 

they  have  complicated  the  translation  scheme  of  tlie  Jewish  Priesthood  I 
of  Presbyter  by  making  it  sometimes  must  repeat  my  special  obligations  to 
pasteur  and  sometimes  ancien.  This  Roland’s  Antiquities  and  to  Ewald’s 
word  sacrificateur  is  misleading  only  remarkalde  chapter  in  his  AUerlhUmer 
from  its  implying  as  a constant  act  * Lecture  XIX. 

what  only  belongs  to  a portion  of  the  2 See  Lecture  VII. 

history  of  the  offce.  For  the  whole 

VOL.  II.  29 


TIIK  JKWISII  PRIESTHOOD 


Lkct.  XXXV  L 


450 

of  that  primitive  age.  Unlike  any  similar  sacred  insti- 
tution of  Christian  times,  the  Priesthood  was  not  an 
order,  not  even  a caste  or  family.  It  was  a tribe,  a clan, 
consecrated  to  religious  purposes  by  the  nation  itself 
Not  by  the  hands  of  Moses  or  of  Aaron,  but  by  the 
hands  of  the  whole  assembly  of  the  children  of  Israel, 
the  Levites  were  set  apart,  and  then  presented  by  Aaron 
as  an  oflering  of  the  children  of  Israel.^  The  first 
Chief  Priest  is,  in  a peculiar  and  emphatic  manner,  rep- 
ita  connec-  J'(?i=^ented  as  the  Prince  or  Chief  of  the  tribe. 
tiiTtribeof  called  beyond  any  other  name,  “ Aaron  ^ 

the  Levite.”  lie  was  the  eldest  born,  “ the 
corner-stone”  of  the  clan.  Ilis  distino:uishincj:  mark  'svas 
the  sceptre  ^ or  staff  of  the  tribe.  It  was  this  which  was 
laid  up  amongst  the  sacred  treasures  as  the  relic  of  that 
primitive  time.  And  as  he,  so  his  tribe,  retained,  long 
after  the  conquest,  their  pastoral  habits.  Here  and 
there,  in  every  tribe,^  w^ere  to  be  seen  patches  of  pasture 
land,  on  which  no  cornfield  or  vineyard  of  the  agricult- 
ural life  of  Palestine  could  encroach,  on  which  fed  the 
flocks  and  herds  of  the  shepherds  of  the  tribe  of  Levi. 

The  origin  of  the  tribe  introduces  us  to  the  peculi- 
its  military  ^rity  both  of  character  and  office  which  marks 
character,  Jewish  Pi’icsthood.  Modcm  Priesthoods  — 
nay,  even  most  ancient  Priesthoods  — have  represented 
the  peaceful  element  of  the  nations  to  which  they  have 
belonged.  But  the  sons  of  Levi  were  essentially  a 
warrior  caste.  As  their  first  father,  so  were  they: 
Instruments  of  cruelty  were  in  their  habitations. 
Fierce  was  their  anger,  and  cruel  their  wrath.”® 
Every  step  of  their  early  history  is  marked  deep  in 

1 JSnmb.  Till.  5-11.  3 Numb.  xvii.  8.  See  Ewald,  Ibid 

-»  n;x.  IV.  14.  See  Ewald,  Alters  312. 
fSflnwr,  254,  3)1.  ^ See  Lecture  Xli. 

» Gen.  xlix.  5,  7 


XXXVI. 


ITS  MILITARY  CHARACTER 


451 


blood.  The  first  is  far  back  in  their  ancestral  tra- 
ditions, when  the  two  wild  brothers’  appear  side  by- 
side,  hewing  down  with  ruthless  swords  the  defenceless 
Shechemites,  and  awakening  the  grief  and  indignation 
of  the  gentler  Patriarch : Ye  have  troubled  me.” 

0 my  soul,  enter  not  into  their  habitation.”^  This 
remorseless  energy  was  a concentration  of  the  indomi- 
table zeal  which  was  to  be  the  weapon  (so  to  speak) 
of  the  whole  Hebrew  race  in  its  conflicts  with  the 
world.  Simeon  reappears  for  a moment  only  in  the 
doubtful  story  of  Judith.^  But  Levi  again  and  again 
reenacts  the  same  scene.  The  consecration  of  the 
tribe  was  no  calm  ceremonial  in  the  solitude  of  the 
sanctuary.  It  was  by  the  tremendous  self-dedication 
to  the  work  of  exterminating  the  worshippers  of  the 
molten  calf  The  victims  which  they  offered  on  their 
consecration  were  not  innocent  bullocks,  but  their 
brothers,  their  comrades,  their  neighbors.^  And  yet 
again,  when  the  succession  of  the  Priesthood  was 
finally  secured  to  the  family  of  Aaron’s  eldest  son,  it 
w^as  by  the  javelin  of  Phinehas,  which  pierced  through 
and  through  the  Israelite  and  his  paramour.^  Behold 
^‘he  shall  have  it,  and  his  seed  after  him,  even  the 

covenant  of  an  everlasting  priesthood,  because  he  was 
“ zealous  for  his  God,  and  made  an  atonement  for  the 

children  of  Israel.”  The  Levite  band  that  rallied 
round  the  ark,  so  far  from  being  forbidden,  like  the 
clergy  of  modem  times,  to  wear  arms  or  to  shed  blood, 
were  a band  of  determined  soldiers,  each  with  his 
sword®  by  his  side,  ready  to  defend  and  avenge  the 
Divine  Presence  at  the  risk  of  their  lives  against  the 

1 Gen.  xxxiv.  25.  5 Numb.  xxv.  11-13. 

2 Ibid,  xxxiv.  30 ; xlix.  6.  6 Ex.  xxxii.  27  ; 1 Chr.  xxvi.  6-8, 

3 See  Lecture  XII.  12  (Heb.)  ; 2 Chr.  xxvi.  17  (Ileb.) 

4 Ex.  xxxii.  26-29. 


452 


THE  JEWISH  rUIKSTHOOD. 


Lect.  XXXVI 


traitors  within  or  enemies  without  the  camp.  So  far 
from  representing  the  elders,  the  old  men,  the  “ presby- 
ters,” from  whom  the  modern  name  of  ‘‘priest”  is  de- 
rived, they  represented  the  tlower  of  the  nation’s 
youth.  The  original  Priesthood  had,  as  it  would  seem, 
consisted  not  of  the  fathers,  but  of  the  eldest  sons  of 
the  ditferent  households,  who  brought  to  the  active 
ministrations  of  the  altar,  not  the  decrepitude  or  wis- 
dom of  age,  but  the  vigor  and  fierceness  of  youth.' 
“The  young  man  the  Lcvite,”^  in  direct  contradiction 
to  the  elders,  was  the  name  by  which  the  ministering 
members  of  the  tribe  were  called.  Their  music  w^as  the 
clanging  trumpet  or  the  dissonant  rani’s  horn.^  Their 
morning  hymn  was  the  stirring  war-cry : “ Rise  up,  0 
“ Lord,  and  let  thine  enemies^  be  scattered.”  The 
address  before  the  battle,  which,  in  Grecian  warfare, 
was  the  duty  of  the  general,  w'as  in  Israel  to  be  uttered 
by  the  Priest.^  And  this  martial  character,  though 
it  was,  as  we  shall  see,  considerably  modified,  yet 
continued  almost  unbroken  till  the  age  of  Solomon, 
and  never  entirely  ceased.  The  house  of  Ithamar,  in 
all  probability,®  won  their  ascendancy  over  the  house 
of  Eleazar  by  some  daring  feat  of  Eli  through  which 
he  obtained  the  office  of  J udge.  His  two  sons, 

Hophni’  and  Phinehas,  fell  in  battle  before  the  ark. 
Abiathar”  was  the  constant  companion  of  David  in 
the  most  adventurous  days  of  his  early  life.  Zadok 
was  renowmed  as  a warrior^  long  before  he  came  to  the 
court  of  David  as  Priest.  Their  two  sons,  Ahimaiiz 


1 Ex.  xxxiv.  5.  See  this  whole 
aspect  well  brought  out  in  Ewald, 
Alterth.  273,  294-296. 

2 Judg.  xviii.  3,  15. 

Numb.  X.  1-11 ; Josh.  vi.  6,  &c. ; 
1 Chr.  xiii.  14. 


4 Numb.  X.  36. 

5 Deut.  XX.  2. 

6 See  Lecture  XVII. 

7 1 Sam.  iv.  17. 

® See  Lecture  XXII. 
9 1 Chr.  xii.  28. 


uKC'i'.  XXXVI. 


ITS  MILITARY  CHARACTER. 


453 


and  Jonathan,  their  natural  successors  in  the  office, 
were  celebrated,  not  for  learning  or  piety,  but  for  their 
speed  or  agility.^  Benahah,  the  captain  of  the  king’s 
guard  in  David’s  reign,  and  captain  of  the  host  in 
Solomon’s,  was  a priest.^  And  although,  in  that  peace- 
ful period,  the  sword  of  the  priestly  caste  was  laid 
aside,  and  the  trumpet  exchanged  in  great  part  for  the 
harp  and  the  cymbal,  yet  still  from  time  to  time  the 
ancient  fire  reappeared.  The  priests  were  present 
with  sounding  trumpets  to  proclaim  a sacred  war 
against  Jeroboam.®  Jehoiada  arrayed  his  armed 
Levites  with  a strategy  worthy  of  an  experienced 
general  for  his  stroke  of  state.^  In  the  greatest  mili- 
tary struggle  which  the  Jewish  nation  ever  sustained 

— in  the  insurrection  against  Antiochus  Epiphanes 

— their  leaders  were  not  Prophets  or  Princes,  but 
Priests.  By  acts  of  valor  and  self-devotion,  like  those 
of  Levi,  of  Phinehas,  and  of  Benaiah,  the  Priestly  race 
of  the  Maccabees  won  their  way  to  regal  power;  and 
in  the  final  conflict  with  the  Eomans,  the  writer  who 
records  it,  whose  work  is  pronounced  by  Niebuhr^  the 
best  military  history  of  ancient  times  after  Cmsar’s 
Commentaries,”  and  who  himself  took  no  mean  part 
in  it,  was  Joseph,  or  Josephus,  the  Priest. 

Such  was  the  first  natural  aspect  of  the  Jewish 
Priesthood,  the  Praetorian  guard,  the  Janissaries,  the 
watch-dogs  round  the  sacred  shrine,  like  the  Koreish 
tribe  round  the  Kaaba  of  Mecca.  They  were  literally 
a living  sacrifice®  — the  consecration  of  the  martial 

1 See  Lecture  XXIV.  the  expression  in  2 Chr.  xxiii.  7 im- 

2 See  Lecture  XXIII.  plies  the  military  character  of  the 

3 2 Chr.  xiii.  12,  14.  Levites. 

* Ibid,  xxiii.  1-7.  Even  if  we  ac-  ^ Lectures  on  Roman  History^  iii 
eept  the  account  in  2 Ivings  xi.  8-11,  205. 

to  the  exclusion  of  2 Chr.  xxiii.  4,  5,  ^ Numb.  viii.  10. 


464 


THE  JEWISH  PRIESTHOOD. 


lkct.  XX  xv: 


Bpirit  of  a martial  and  ooiiragcou.s  people,  needing  for 
their  office  not  the  thinking  head  or  the  feeling  heart, 
blit  the  stalwart  arm,  the  fleet  foot,  and  the  determined 
will. 

But  within  this  outer  dedication  of  the  tribe,  there 
Thesacri-  furtlior  dedication  to  the  actual  minis- 

fices.  trations  of  the  public  worship  of  the  nation. 
Here,  again,  we  must  dismiss  from  our  minds  all  that 
we  commonly  associate  with  the  idea  of  worship.  The 
arrangements  of  the  Temple  were,  as  has  been  truly 
said,  not  those  of  a cathedral  or  a church,  but  of  a 
vast  slaughter-house,  combined  with  a banqueting-hall. 
Droves  of  oxen,  sheep,  and  goats  crowded  the  courts. 
Here  were  the  rings  ^ to  which  they  were  fastened. 
There  was  the  huge  altar,  towering  above  the  people, 
on  which  the  carcasses  were  laid  to  be  roasted.  Under- 
neath was  the  drain  to  carry  off  the  streams  of  blood.^ 
Close  by  was  the  apparatus®  for  skinning  and  fleecing 
them.  Round  the  court  were  the  kitchens  for  cooking 
the  meat  after  the  sacrifice  was  over.  For  that  which 
constitutes  Christian  devotion,  — prayer,  praise,  com- 
memoration, exhortation,  — there  was  not  in  the  origi- 
nal Mosaic  ritual  any  provision. 

The  intrinsic  meaning  of  ancient  sacrifice  lay  in  its 
opening  an  approach  to  God  by  a gift  of  the  offerer, 
a gift  valuable  in  proportion  as  it  represented  the  entire 
dedication  of  the  life.  Hence  the  prominence  of  the 
warm  flowing  blood  in  the  ancient  world,  inseparably  ^ 
connected  with  the  idea  of  life.  Hence  the  tendency 
to  human  sacrifice,  always  thrusting  itself  forward  by 

1 See  Reland’s  Antiquities.  3 Ezek.  xl.  42,  43  ; xlvi.  23. 

2 The  blood,  according  to  Dent.  xii.  4 See  Ewald,  AlterthUnter,  29,  48, 
27,  was  poured  upon  (according  to  59,  80-84. 

Lev.  i.  5,  &c.,  round)  the  altar. 


UcT.  XXXVI. 


THE  SACRIFICES. 


455 


the  logical  necessity  of  the  case,  but  always  repressed 
by  the  precepts  of  the  law,  humaner  and  loftier  than 
any  logic,  whether  of  fact  or  feeling.  Hence  the  cor- 
respondence which  Psalmists  first,  and  Apostles  after- 
wards, found  between  this  outward  offering  and  that 
complete  offering  of  the  heart  and  wilV  of  which  all 
sacrifice,  heathen  and  Jewish  alike,  was  but  the  faint 
symbolical  likeness.  ^^Yerum  sacriflcium  est  omne 
opus,  quod  agitur,  ut  sancta  societate  hsereamus 
''Deo.”  2 

But  these  ideas  lie  unexpressed  in  the  worship  itself. 
All  that  was  seen  in  the  Mosaic  system  was  the 
mechanical  observance  of  acts  which,  to  our  minds, 
not  only  fail  to  convey  any  religious  idea,  but  are 
associated  with  one  of  the  coarsest  of  human  occupa- 
tions. For  this  purpose,  as  for  the  defence  of  the 
shrine,  not  moral  or  intellectual  qualifications  were 
chiefly  needed.  The  robust  frame,  which  could  endure 
the  endless  routine  of  the  sacrifices  and  carry  away 
the  bleeding  remains,^  the  quick  eye  and  ready  arm 
which  could  strike  the  fatal  blow,  these  were  naturally 
inherent  in  the  fierce  tribe  of  soldier-shepherds,  and 
these  w^ere  accordingly  dedicated  to  the  Temple  service. 
Those  who  were  prepared  to  wash  Their  feet  in  the 
blood  of  the  living  enemies  of  their  country,  and  to 
shed  their  own  blood  in  the  vanguard  of  the  Israelite 
host,  were  not  unsuited  to  the  more  tranquil,  though 
not  less  sanguinary,^  work  of  the  sacrifices.  Those 
w^ho  still  retained  the  habits  of  the  ancient  tribe,  in 

1 Ps  xl.  7;  1.  23;  li.  17;  Heb.  hands.  In  Lev.  i.  5,  11,  iii.  2,  8,  13, 

K.  7.  iv.  4,  24,  29,  they  are  to  be  killed  not 

2 Augustine,  De  Civitate  Dei^  x.  6.  by  the  Priest  but  by  the  offerer.  This, 

3 Lev.  iv.  5-1 2.  perhaps,  was  a remnant  of  the  original 

^ It  is  not  clear  whether  the  Priests  Priesthood  of  the  whole  nation  de- 
villed the  victims  with  their  own  scribed  in  Ex.  xix  6 (see  p.  458).  But 


156 


THE  JEWISH  PRIESTHOOD. 


Lect.  XXXVI 


their  liererlitary  pastures  rour.d  tlie  Levitical  cities, 
would  be  ecjual  to  tlie  task  of  luarslialling  and  manag- 
ing the  luu’ds  and  Hocks  that  crowded  the  Temple 
courts  on  gi'eat  festivals.  The  actual  hewing  of  wood 
and  (hawing  of  water  were  left  to  inferior  ministers, 
but  the  main  labors  of  the  sacrificial  system  itself 
could  be  discharged  only  by  the  noble  and  august 
hands  of  the  Sacred  tribe. 

Yet  we  cannot  doubt  that  this  merely  external  ritual 
— these  ordinances  which,  if  ever  any,  deserved  the 
name  given  to  them  by  the  writer  of  the  Epistle  to 
the  Hebrews,  “carnal,”  “ lleshly,”  bound  up  with  the 
raw  and  bleeding  flesh  of  irrational  animals  — partook 
of  the  elevating  character  of  the  Eeligion  which  they 
represented.  Those  who  have  seen  the  solemn  though 
startling  eflect  of  the  Samaritan  sacrifice  on  Mount 
Gerizim,  the  sturdy  and  comely  youths  holding  the 
struggling  sheep  with  a firm  yet  gentle  grasp,  the 
bright  knives  flashing  in  the  departing  sunlight,  the 
sudden  quick  stroke,  with  which  the  animals  lay  dead 
on  the  ground,  will  have  no  difficulty  in  conceiving 
how  a higher  association  could  glorify  even  the  mean- 
est of  trades  and  the  most  mechanical  of  arts.  Butcher 
and  Priest  are  now  the  two  extremes  of  the  social  scale. 
A fine  moral  lesson  is  involved  in  the  fact  that  they 
were  once  almost  identical.^ 

Moreover,  the  Sacred  records  themselves  suffice  to 
give  us  some  notion  of  the  modes  by  which  the  acts  and 
profession  of  the  Priesthood  were  distinguished  from 
those  of  merely  secular  life.  Like  slavery,  like  polyg- 

iii  2 Chr.  XXXV.  11,  the  victims  are  of  Moses^  Art.  164.  Bahr’s  SymhoWc^ 
dlled  by  the  Levites;  in  2 Chr.  xxix.  iii.  308. 

J2,  &c.,  by  the  Priests.  See  Reland’s  t Qvaai  (comp.  John  x.  10  ; Acta  x. 
Antiquities,  iii.  18.  Michaelis,  Laws  13)  is  equally  “to  sacrifice”  or  “to 

kill  an  animal.” 


Lect.  XXX  VI. 


THE  SACRIFICES. 


45? 


amy,  like  the  law  of  retaliatioiij  of  the  avenger  of 
blood,  the  institutions  of  sacrifice  and  of  priesthood 
were  not  created  at  Sinai ; they  were  adopted  ^ from  the 
already  existing  traditions  of  the  world,  but  restrained, 
modified,  and  elevated  by  the  peculiar  spirit  of  the 
Jewish  religion.  The  slaughter  of  mere  dumb  animals 
may  seem  to  us  a strange  mode  of  approaching  the 
Divine  Presence,  but  we  must  remember  that  it  was 
humanity  and  civilization  itself,  if  compared  with  the 
practices  of  the  surrounding  nations.  Sacrifice  they  all 
had  in  common.  But  whilst  the  sacrifices  on  Moriah 
consisted  of  the  innocent  slaughter  of  goats  and  sheep, 
the  sacrifices  of  Moab  and  Ammon,  the  sacrifices  in  the 
valley  of  Hinnom,  and  on  the  heights  of  Olivet,  were  of 
men  and  women  and  children.  Often  as  human  sacri- 
fice ^ intruded  itself  into  the  Jewish  religion,  it  was 
never  formally  authorized. 

The  Priesthood  again  was  an  institution  adopted  from 
the  customs  of  the  whole  primeval  world.  In  its  out- 
ward forms  we  seem  to  hear  — 

Notes  that  are 

The  ghostly  language  of  the  ancient  earth, 

Or  make  their  dim  abode  in  distant  winds. 

Of  some  few  the  original  spirit  may  be  faintly  dis- 
cerned. The  extreme  and  punctilious  cleanliness,  the 
attempt  to  maintain  a rigid  simplicity  in  the  details  of 
the  office,^  the  prohibition  of  blemish  and  disfigurement, 
are  qualifications  of  which  the  force  has  been  acknowl- 
edged in  various  degrees  for  the  ministers  of  religion, 
even  in  Christian  countries.  But  there  is  yet  a higher 
idea  which  penetrates  and  transfigures  the  office.  The 

1 See  this  well  expanded  in  Pro-  2 See  Lectures  II.,  XVI.,  XXI 
fessor  Goldwin  Smith’s  work  Does  3 See  Ewald,  287. 
the  Bible  sanction  Slavery  ? 


458 


Till-;  JEWISH  PIUESTIIOOD. 


Eect.  XXX\  I 


Pi  ’iests  wore  those  tliat  “ drew  near  to  God,”  and  thus  oe- 
Reprpp.nfa-  cii])iod,  to  soiiie  extent,  the  vacant  space  'svhicli 

lives  of  the  ^ ^ ^ ^ 

nation.  for  other  nations  was  filled  with  statues  and 
iiuagcry.  ddiis  position  was  materially  afTected  by  the 
higher  truths  both  of  tlie  Divinity  who  was  worshipped, 
and  the  people  who  were  worshippers.  The  Priests 
were  to  exhibit,  as  it  were,  in  dumb  show,  the  greatness 
of  the  Divine  Cause,  which  they  were  pledged  to  de- 
fend with  their  swords.  Tliey  were  to  exhibit,  as  in  a 
silent  mirror,  as  in  a concentrated  focus,  the  mind  of  the 
people  whom  they  represented.  The  very  limitation^ 
of  the  office  arose  from  the  fact  that  it  was  in  its  first 
beginning  a modification  of  an  original  idea  of  a much 
grander  and  wider  import.  The  Israelite  nation  itself 
was  intended  to  be  its  own  Priesthood.  Ye  are  a royal 
“ Priesthood,”  a kingdom  of  Priests.”  “ It  was  only 
from  the  failure  of  this  that  the  separate,  local  Priest- 
hood was  provided  as  a substitute  and  supplement.  It 
was  to  exhibit  an  Israel  within  Israel ; not  in  that 
deeper  sense  in  which  the  Prophets  afterwards  ® repre- 
sented the  same  truth,  but  an  outward  reflection  of  the 
people  to  themselves  in  their  relations  to  God.  Which- 
ever way  the  Priest,  especially  the  High  Priest,  turned, 
during  his  public  celebrations  — whatever  he  did,  every 
gesture,  every  color,  every  ornament,  was  a kind  of 
moving  picture,  in  which  the  Israelite  was  reminded  of 
the  Invisible  Ruler ; in  which  the  Invisible  Ruler  ^vas 
(if  one  may  so  say)  to  be  reminded  of  His  earthly  and 
distant  subjects.  On  the  gold  plate  which  glittered  from 
afar  on  the  High  Priest’s  forehead,  and  which  was 
handed  on  from  age  to  age,  and  survived  even  the  fall 
of  the  whole  Jewish  system,  when  it  was  carried  off 

1 See  Kurtz’s  Sacrificial  System.  ^ See  Lecture  XL. 

* 1 Peter  ii.  9 ; E.\od.  xlx.  6. 


Lect.  XXXVI.  ' 


ITS  PREDICTIONS. 


460 


with  the  spoils  of  the  Temple  to  Rome/  the  nation  saw 
the  pledge  of  their  special  nearness  to  the  Eternal, 
whose  name  was  inscribed  upon  it.^  In  the  twelve 
jewels  which  shone  upon  his  breast,  they  recognized 
themselves ; he  was  to  bear  the  names  of  the  twelve 
^Hribes  on  his  heart,  for  a memorial  before  Jehovah 
continually.”  ^ When  he  passed  out  of  their  sight  into 
the  innermost  recess  of  Tabernacle  or  Temple,  they 
could  still  track  his  course  by  the  tinkling  of  the  silver 
bells  ^ that  hung  on  his  mantle  and  seemed  to  enable 
them  to  enter  with  him  into  the  Holy  of  Holies.  When 
the  sacred  oil  ® was  poured  upon  his  head,  and  flowed 
over  his  streaming  beard,  and  enveloped  in  its  fragrant 
odor  the  very  outskirts  ® of  his  dress,  it  seemed  to  be  a 
consecration  of  themselves,  a likeness  of  the  brotherly 
covenant  that  should  unite  all  parts  of  the  Israelite 
commonwealth  together.  When  the  warm  blood  of  the 
slaughtered  ram’  left  its  red  stain  on  the  ears,  and 
thumbs,  and  toes  of  the  priestly  family;  when  their 
hands  were  filled  ® with  the  smoking  entrails  of  the 
victims  and  with  the  cakes  of  consecrated  bread,  it  was 
the  intimation  that  the  self-sacrifice  of  the  whole  nation 
was  acted  in  their  persons ; and  when  the  Priests  in  turn 
laid  their  hands  on  the  dead  animals,  or  turned  loose  the 
wild  goat  into  the  desert,  or  carried  the  drops  of  blood 
to  the  altar  and  the  sanctuary,  and  threw  up  the  cloud 
of  incense,  it  was  as  though,  by  an  electric  affinity,  the 

1 See  the  quotation  from  the  Ge-  of  the  monarchy  it  was  shared  with 
mara  in  Reland,  De  Spoliis  Templi,  the  Kings  (Reland). 

#ap.  13.  6 p^.  cxxxiii.  2. 

2 Ex.  xxviii.  36.  7 Ex.  xxix.  20  ; Ewald,  270. 

3 Ibid.  29.  Ewald,  Alterih.  304.  8 This  was  the  act  of  consecration, 

* Ex.  xxviii.  3.5  ; Ecclus.  xlv.  9.  which  is  always  designated  in  tbc 

5 The  anointing  was  discontinued  Hebrew  by  this  expression. 

ifter  the  Captivity.  From  the  time 


460 


rilE  JEWISH  PRIESTHOOD. 


Lect.  XXX  VL 


(he  energy,  the  devotion  of  the  people  penetrated 
into  the  presence  of  the  unseen  world.  The  imposition 
of  hands  ^ on  the  head  was  the  form  alike  of  dedicatiim 

O 

the  victim  and  the  Levite.  In  each  case  the  spark  of 
life  was  conveyed,  tlirongh  the  hands  and  fingers,  fidl  of 
vital  warmth,  into  the  recipient;  as  if  magnetically  to 
('ommimicafe  the  spirit  and  will,  as  the  case  might  lie, 
of  tlie  Israelite  who  offered  the  victim,  of  the  Israelitish 
people  wlio  ofiered  the  Levite.  When  the  new  High 
Priest  was  clad  from  head  to  foot  ^ in  tlie  robes  of  his 
predecessor,  and  the  Priests  apjieared  on  great  days  in 
their  white  mantles,  there  were  at  least  some  to  whom 
the  sight  suggested  the  aspiration  after  a higher  investi- 
ture of  moral  qualities.  Let  thy  priests  be  clothed 
with  righteousness.”  I will  clothe  lier  priests  with 
‘‘salvation.”  “I  have  caused  thine  iniquity  to  pass 
“ from  thee,  and  I will  clothe  thee  with  a change  of 
“ raiment.”  ^ 

There  were,  in  addition  to  these  national  and  symbol- 
Subonii-  functions,  a few  subordinate  duties  of  the 

of  iLaulT  Levitical  Priesthood,  wdiich  give  it,  in  the  Chris- 
tian  sense  of  the  Avord,  something  of  a directly 
religious  character.  Within  a very  limited  circle,  prob- 
ably merely  for  the  sake  of  pointing  out  ceremonial 
offerings  or  duties,  they  were  to  teach  the  frequenters 
of  the  Temple,  and  judge  for  them  the  complicated 
questions  of  ceremonial  casuistry;  and  farther  to  pre- 


1 The  offerer,  not  the  Priest,  laid 
his  hands  on  the  head  of  the  victim 
(Lev.  i.  6).  The  people,  not  the 
Priests,  laid  their  hands  on  the  head 
of  the  Levite  (Numb.  viii.  10).  For 
the  whole  idea  see  Ewald,  Alterth. 
14. 

* This,  after  the  Captivity,  was 


the  only  consecration.  He  wore  the 
vestments  only  in  the  Temple.  After 
the  banishment  of  Archelaus,  they 
were  kept  in  the  fortress  of  Antonia, 
and  given  out  on  the  four  great  so* 
lemnities  (Joseph.  Ant.  xv.  11,  § 5 
Reland,  Ant.  ii.  1,  § 11). 

^ Ps.  cxxxii.  9,  16  ; Zech.  iii.  4 


Lect.  XXXVI. 


ITS  TEACHING  FUNCTION. 


461 


gerve,  and  from  time  to  time  to  recite,  the  precepts  of 
the  Law.^  Their  aggregation  in  particular  cities  pre 
eludes  the  notion  ^ of  their  having  been  employed  as 
general  instructors.  But,  doubtless,  as  the  moral  and 
spiritual  character  of  the  religion  was  developed,  the 
area  of  their  teaching  was  enlarged.  The  Levites  espe- 
cially took  part  in  the  instruction,  and  this  widened  the 
breach  ® which  existed  more  or  less  between  them  and 
the  Priests.  A teaching  Priest ^ was  regarded  as  an 
object  to  be  desired,  and  there  was  a knowledge  ” ^ of 
which  his  lips  were  claimed  to  be  the  guardians.  Now 
and  then,  as  in  the  case  of  Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel,®  a 
prophet  rose  out  of  their  ranks  ; and  in  Ezra  there  took 
place  the  union,  ominous  for  evil,  when  viewed  in  con- 
nection with  its  terrible  future,  but  for  the  time  indicat- 
ing the  highest  spiritual  point  to  which  the  Levitical 
functions  ever  reached  — the  union  of  Priest  and  Scribe. 
It  was  this  union,  doubtless,  that,  whether  in  Ezra  or 
his  successors,  produced  one  of  the  chief  Levitical  books 
of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  — in  which  the  priestly 
character  ^ is  the  most  apparent,  — the  Book  of  Chron- 
icles. Though  the  latest  of  all  the  canonical  writings 
— latest,  probably,  in  point  of  time,  last  certainly  in  the 
place  which  it  holds  in  the  original  Canon,  — it  repre- 
sents the  workmanship  of  many  generations.  It  re* 

1 Deut.  xxi.  5;  xvil.  8-13,  18;  performing  the  duties  of  clergy  in 

xxxi.  10-13;  Ezek.  xliv.  23,  24.  regard  to  religious  instruction,  and 

2 See  Michaelis  on  the  Laws  of  what  we  should  call  the  cure  of  souls. 

Moses^  Art.  52,  He  takes  a some-  3 2 Chr.  xxix.  34. 

what  wider  view  of  the  teaching  4 Ibid.  xv.  3. 

duties  of  the  Levites,  than  has  been  ^ Malachi  ii.  7. 

lere  described,  but  points  out  clearly  6 See  Lecture  XL. 

now  the  mere  circumstance  of  the  See  an  admirable  statement  of 

Priests  and  Levites,  having  their  fixed  the  case,  in  Dean  Milman's  History 

n,bodc  in  forty-eight  distinct  cities  of  of  the  Jews,  i.  328. 

their  own,  incapacitated  them  from 


462 


THE  JEWISH  PRIESTHOOD. 


Lect.  XXX  VI 


geinbles  the  structure  of  an  ancient  cathedral,  with 
fr.'urinents  of  every  style  worked  into  the  building  as  it 
proceeded, — here  a piece  of  tlie  most  hoary  antiquity, 
there  a precious  relic  of  a lost  hymn  or  genealogy  of 
some  renowned  psalmist  or  warrior, — but  all  preserved, 
and  wrought  together,  as  by  the  workmen  of  medimval 
times,  under  the  guidance  of  the  same  sacerdotal  mind, 
with  the  spirit  of  the  same  priestly  order.  Far  below 
the  Pro])hetic  books  of  the  Kings  in  interest  and  so- 
lidity, it  yet  furnishes  a useful  counterpart  by  filling  up 
the  voids  with  materials  which  none  but  the  peculiar 
traditions  and  feelings  of  the  Levitical  caste  could  have 
suj)plied.  It  is  the  culminating  point  of  the  purely 
Levitical  system,  both  in  wdiat  it  relates,  in  what  it 
omits,  and  the  manner  of  its  relations  and  its  omissions. 

Side  by  side  with  this  occasional  and  undefined  duty 
Oracular  iustruction  Were  two  other  functions,  of 
response?,  ^yi^eli  0116  died  out  early  — the  other,  alone 
of  all,  has  lasted  to  this  day.  In  the  Chief  Priest 
resided  a power  of  oracular  response  to  inquirers  on 
certain  great  emergencies.  Unlike  the  great  Prophetic 
messages  which  came,  each  charged  with  the  spirit 
dwelling  within  the  Prophet  himself,  stamped  with  his 
peculiar  style,  clothed  in  his  peculiar  imagery,  carrying 
with  it  principles  of  eternal  truth  and  morality,  the 
answers  of  the  High  Priest  had  no  connection  with  his 
moral  being,  and  were  confined  within  a circle  as  nar- 
row and  outward  as  the  office  which  he  held.  They 
were,  in  some  unexplained  manner,  uttered  or  con- 
veyed, not  by  himself  so  much  as  by  his  mere  outer 
vestment  or  ornament.  The  jewels  which  hung  on 
his  neck  or  breastplate,  — like  those  worn  by  the 
priests  of  Egypt,  — or  the  white  cape  (Ephod)  which 
was  thrown  over  his  shoulders,  sufficed  for  the  purpose 


Lict.  XXXVI. 


ITS  TEACHING  FUNCTION. 


m 


Even  the  Ephod^  itself,  beside  the  Priest,  seems  to 
have  been  used  for  this  object.  And  the  answers 
which  were  given  were  limited  with  the  strictest 
reserve  to  the  immediate  occasion  which  evoked  them, 
— hardly  more^  than  an  affirmative  or  negative, — 
never  more  than  a single  ^ positive  statement  or  com- 
mand. Of  all  the  institutions  of  the  Jewish  Church, 
it  is  the  one  which  approached  most  nearly  to  the 
divinations  and  oracles  of  the  heathen  world,  and,  as 
such,  it  was  the  first  to  pass  away.  The  latest  High 
Priest  who  was  thus  consulted  was  he  who  especially 
belonged  to  the  older  age,  Abiathar,  the  last  of  the 
house  of  Ithamar,  and  with  him,  according  to  the 
Jewish  tradition,  the  power  expired.  In  the  period  on 
which  we  now  enter  it  never  appears.  The  Light 
and  Truth,”  which  the  words  Urim  ” and  Thum- 
mim  ” seem  to  express,  grew  brighter  and  brighter  as 
this  its  outward  symbol  was  lost.  A Priest  with  Urim 
^^and  Thummim”^  was  hoped  for,  but  never  seen,  after 
the  Captivity ; and  the  last  prophetic  or  inspired  utter- 
ance that  a Jewish^  High  Priest  ever  delivered  was 
of  so  terrible  an  import  as  to  cast  a shade  on  all  like 
responses  which  had  ever  issued  from  that  office. 

The  one  remaining  function  to  be  noticed  was  of  a 
more  elevating  and  enduring  kind.  The  Benedic- 
Priests  had  the  peculiar  privilege  of  pronounc- 
ing  a solemn  benediction  on  the  people.®  It  was  in 
that  triple  form  which  conveyed  a sense  of  absolute 
completeness,  and,  according  to  Jewish  belief,  was  pro- 
nounced with  a corresponding  triple  division  of  the 

1 1 Sam.  xiv.  3,  18  (LXX.)  ; xxiii.  3 Judg.  i.  2;  2 Sam.  xxi.  1 
S,  9.  ^ Neh.  vii.  ^5. 

^ Judg.  XX.  18;  1 Sarn.  xiv  37;  5 John  xi.  49-51. 

txiii.  11,  12.  * Num.  vi.  22-27. 


(04 


THE  JEWISH  priesthood. 


l.KCT  XXX VL 


lingers  of  flic  upnii.'^cfl  hand.  The  liaiid*  spread  ovei 
the  })eople  seemed  to  give  liack  to  tliein  the  life  which 
had  ])een,  liy  the  toucli  of  their  liands,  communicated 
to  tlie  Priest.  Tlie  hand  of  a Priest  was  lifted  above 
the  head  ; of  a High  Priest,  above  the  shoulders.  And 
the  word  Jehovah,  which,  in  later  days,  was  elsewhere 
altered  to  Adomii,  in  this  solemn  act  was  retained 
unchanged,  as  if  in  a sacred  charm.^  Alone  of  the 
many  occupations  of  the  Jewish  Priests,  tliis  is  retained 
by  their  descendants  at  the  present  day,  in  however 
degraded  and  secular  condition  they  may  be.  The 
ancient  melody  of  the  blessing  is  said  to  be  preserved 
in  the  chants  of  the  Spanish  and  Portuguese  syna- 
gogues.^ Alone  of  their  many  vocations  — military, 
nomadic,  ceremonial,  sacrificial,  dramatic,  judicial,  oracu- 
lar— it  has  passed  into  the  Christian  Church.  The 
upraised  hand  is  still  preserved  by  the  Presbyterian 
clerg}^  of  Scotland.  When  once  a year  the  English 
clergyman  is  required  to  make  a slight  variation  from 
the  usual  Christian words  of  benediction,  and  recur  to 
the  older  form,  in  this  alone  of  all  his  ministrations  has 
he  preserved  a fragment  of  the  ancient  Levitical  ritual, 
and  stands  in  the  place  of  a genuine  son  of  Aaron,  — 
The  Lord  bless  thee  and  keep  thee ; 

The  Lord  make  His  face  shine  upon  tliee,  and  be  gracious  unto  thee  ; 
The  Lord  lift  up  His  countenance  upon  thee,  and  give  thee  peace. 

It  wdll  naturally  be  supposed  that  if  we  turn  from 
History  of  office  to  its  liistory,  the  personal  interest 

theoihce.  *g  than  that  of  any  other  of  the  great 
Jewish  institutions.  The  Prophet  and  the  King  had 
each  his  own  characteristic  qualifications.  A bad  King 

t Lev.  22.  See  Ewald,  .4/fer-  ^ History  of  Ancient  Mude^ 

Aumer,  44.  114,  825. 

2 Reland,  Ant.  ^ Commination  Service. 


Lbct.  XXXVI. 


ITS  HISTORY. 


i65 


or  a false  Prophet  was  felt  immediately  to  have  acted 
in  direct  contradiction  to  his  office.  But  the  Priestly 
functions  were  almost  wholly  independent  of  any  other 
conditions  than  those  of  a physical  and  ceremonial 
nature.  The  office  descended  in  earlier  times,  as  a 
mere  matter  of  course,  from  father  to  son;  and  the 
mode  of  transference,  which  in  all  times  celebrated 
the  inauguration  of  a new  High  Priest,  and  in  later 
times  was  used  to  designate  the  succession  itself,  indi- 
cated, in  the  most  unmistakable  manner,  its  purely 
external  character.  The  Priestly  robes  were  handed 
on  from  generation  to  generation,  and  when  the  suc- 
cessor dressed  himself  in  his  dead  predecessor’s  clothes, 
he  was  for  all  sufficient  purposes  a living  continuation 
of  the  office  of  which  the  outer  vestment,  rather  than 
the  inward  character,  was  the  essential  element.  Very 
rarely  do  they  act  an  independent  part  of  their  own. 
So  far  from  representino;  anything^  like  the  Connection 

, , ^ o J o ^ ^ the 

separate  spiritual  power  of  modern  hierarchies,  general 

^ ^ ^ condition  of 

they  are  completely  incorporated  with  the  society, 
civil  institutions  of  the  nation,  and  with  very  few  ex- 
ceptions swayed  to  and  fro  by  its  influences.  In  spite 
of  their  pasture-lands,  they  often  appear  to  have  been 
a needy  and  ill-provided  class.  The  Levites  are  con- 
stantly reckoned  amongst  the  objects  of  eleemosynary 
support,^  and  are  described  as  dependent  on  irregular 
channels  for  their  supplies  even  of  ordinary  food.  A 
good  piece^  of  roast  flesh  — a jovial  supper^  — a cake 
of  bread  ^ — the  remains  of  the  meat  offerings  and  drink 
offerings®  — the  heaps  of  corn,  olives,  and  honey®  that 

1 Dent.  xii.  12,  18;  xlv.  29 ; xvi.  4 1 Sam.  il.  36. 

11,  14.  See  the  Bishop  of  Natal  on  5 Joel  I.  9,  13;  ii.  26. 

the  Pentateuch^  Part  3,  §§  650,  672.  ® 2 Chr.  xxxi.  5-10.  Compare  Ex« 

2 1 Sam.  ii.  15.  xxix.  28. 

3 Judg.  xix.  4,  5,  8. 

VOL.  II.  80 


m 


TIIK  JKWISH  PHIKSTHOOI). 


Lect.  XXXVI 


wevQ  laid  in  tlic  Temple  courts,  were  tlie  avowed  ol> 
jects  of  tlie  lioinely  aiiil)ition  of  tlie  Jewish  hierarchy. 
In  tlie  desert  the  order  was  controlled  by  the  supreme 
power  of  the  great  Lawgiver.  Through  him,  and  not 
through  Aaron,  are  communicatecP  the  ordinances  of 
its  existence,  lly  him,“  and  not  h}^  Aaron,  not  Aaron 
only  l)ut  Aaron’s  sons  were  anointed  for  their  otlice. 
In  tlie  order  of  tlie  precedence  in  the  court  of  David 
they  rank  after  the  commander-in-chief  and  the  histo- 
riographer.^ One  instance  is  recorded  of  a violent 
attempt  to  snatch  at  wider  power;  hut  that  is  within 
the  sacred  tribe  itself;  not  of  the  Priesthood  against 
the  supreme  jurisdiction  of  Moses,  but  of  the  Levites 
against  the  Priesthood.^  In  the  lawless  period  of  the 
Judges,  the  sacerdotal  caste  largely  shared  in  the  wild, 
licentious  character  of  the  whole  age.  The  Levite  of 
Dan,  the  Levite  of  Bethlehem,  Ilophni  and  Phinehas, 
Eli  himself,  were  average  types  of  the  disorder  of 
the  time.  They  rarely  rise  above  it ; they  never 
herald  the  approach  of  better  days.  After  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  monarchy  they  become,  far  more  than 
Prophet  or  Captain  of  the  Host,  mere  instruments  in 
the  hands  of  the  King.  The  King  was  himself  a par- 
taker in  the  consecration  of  their  own  sacred  oil. 
Ahimelech  trembles  at  the  least  thought  of  resistance  ® 
to  Saul’s  despotic  will.  He  and  his  whole  house  are 
swept  away  apparently  with  a less  shock  to  the  na- 
tional conscience,  with  a less  guilt®  on  Saul’s  part, 

1 Ex.  xxxiii.  1;  xxlx.  14.  ® Ibid.  xxii.  18;  2 Sam.  xxi.  2. 

2 Ibid.  xl.  12-16.  Contrast  this  with  the  importance 

3 2 Sam.  viii.  16-18.  But  in  1 ascribed  by  the  Rabbinical  traditions 
Kings  iv.  1-6  (LXX.),  the  Chief  to  the  slaughter  of  Ahimelech,  which* 
Priest  is  put  next  after  the  King.  in  their  judgment,  was  the  cause  of 

^ Num.  xvi.  7-10.  David’s  misfortunes.  (See  Jei’ome, 

® 1 SaUi.  xxi.  1.  Qii.  Heb.  on  2 Sam.  xv.  7.) 


j raci  XXXVI.  ITS  HISTORY.  467 

j than  was  incurred  by  the  slaughter  of  the  Canaanite 
I outcasts,  the  Gibeonites.  Abiathar,  his  son,^  was  de- 
posed by  Solomon.  Zadok  was,  it  would  seem,  ap- 
pointed by  Saul,  and  established  first  in  joint  posses- 
sion of  the  Priesthood  by  David,  and  then  in  sole  pos- 
session by  Solomon.  The  influence  of  these  great 
Princes  was  nowhere  more  powerfully  exercised  than 
in  their  modification  of  the  Priestly  offices,  the  duties 
of  which  were  laid  down  by  Solomon  with  a minute 
and  rigorous  care  equal  to  any  now  exercised  in  the 
Christian  Church  by  the  most  vigilant  of  Pontiffs. 

Nothing  shows  more  strikingly  the  vivifying  and 
renovating  power  of  these  reigns,  than  that  j^p^ove- 
even  into  this  cold  mechanism  they  infused  a DavSand 
new  life,  and  therefore  a new  importance, 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  the  military  character  of  the 
order  gives  way  to  more  peaceful  influences ; the 
gentler  music  of  the  Prophetic  schools  is  added  in  the 
Levitical  service  to  the  wild  trumpets  and  dissonant 
horns  of  the  earlier  age ; and  hymns  and  prayers  enter 
into  the  mute  Priestly  functions.  Then  also  it  broke 
its  strict  hereditary  bounds.  Some  of  its  highest 
functions,  those  of  sacrifice  and  benediction,  were 
performed  by  the  two  powerful  Kings, ^ who  united  in 
their  persons,  to  a degree  unknown  before,  the  royal 
and  sacerdotal  offices.  Even  the  inferior  members  of 
the  royal  family  shared  in  the  same  enlargement,  and 
are  enrolled  by  the  sacred  writers  . amongst  the 
Priests”  with  a boldness  which,  of  all  the  great  ver- 
sions of  the  Old  Testament,  the  Vulgate  alone  has 
had  the  honesty  and  the  courage  thoroughly^  to  recog- 

1 See  Lecture  XXVI.  sometimes  avXapxai ; the  A.  V.  always 

^ See  Lectures  XXIII.,  XXVII.  “chief  rulers;”  the  Vulgate  always 
2 Sam.  viii.  18;  1 Kings  iv.  5.  “ sacerdotes.” 

Fhe  LXX.  translates  sometimes  Icpevg, 


4G8 


THK  JKWIRII  PRIESTHOOD. 


Lkct.  XX.K\I. 


nize.  But,  altliough  this  Avas  a teinponiry  phase  of  its 
history,  tlie  Jewish  Priesthood  then  received  an  iinj)idse 
in  Judah  which  it  never  since  lost.  In  the  kingdorr 
of  Tsi’ael,  the  mere  fact  of  the  religious  revolution  ot 
Jcrohoani  cut  them  off  from  occupying  any  importani 
position.  But  this  very  circumstance  tlirew  them  with 
greater  force  on  the  kingdom  of  Judah.  As  from  the 
lu?  jn-owih  of  the  disruption,  the  northern  kingdom 

kingdom  have  seen,  the  chief  scene  of  the 

ofjudah,  influence  of  the  Prophets,  so  the  southern 
was  the  chief  scene  of  the  influence  of  the  Priests. 
The  geographical  situation  of  the  Priestly  cities,  in 
the  southern  tribes  of  Judah,  Simeon,'  and  Benjamin, 
doubtless  contributed  to  this  result.  The  Priesthood 
which  had  been  in  the  time  of  David  divided  between 
three  competitors,^  in  the  time  of  Solomon  between 
two,  were  at  last  concentrated  in  tlie  single  person  of 
the  chief  descendant  of  Zadok,  who  in  the  time  of 
Jehoiada  assumed  for  the  first®  or  nearly  the  first  time, 
the  title  of  High  Priest.”  Under  him  there  occasion- 
ally appears  a Second  Priest,”  and  under  these  an 
indefinite  number,^  known  as  “the  door- 
Captivity.  keepers.”  Jehoiada,  Azariah,  Hilkiah,  Jere- 
miah, and  Ezekiel  are  amongst  the  chief  personages 
of  the  later  history.  After  the  return,  Ezra,  Joshua, 
Simon  the  Just,  and  Jaddua  figure  as  conspicuously. 
And  in  the  Maccabees,  for  the  first  time  since  Eli,  a 
priestly  dynasty  mounts  the  throne ; and,  though  at 
last  rendered  still  more  dependent  on  the  will  of  the 
Eoman  governors  than  it  had  formerly  been  on  that 
of  the  Jewish  Kings,  the  High  Priesthood  retained  its 

1 Josh.  xxl.  11-19  ; 1 Chr.  vi.  54-  3 The  only  exceptions  areLev.  xxi. 

SO.  10  ; 1 Chr.  xxvii.  5. 

2 Zadok  and  Abiathar,  and  (1  Chr.  ^ 2 Kings  xii.  9;  xxili.  4;  xxv. 
xxvii.  5)  Jehoiada  the  First. 


Lscr.  XXXVI. 


ITS  INFERIOR  PLACE. 


469 


hold  on  the  nation  till  the  end,  and  disappeared  only 
with  the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  whilst  the  Priestly  and 
Levitical  functions  have  continued  even  to  this  day.^ 

It  will  be  seen  that,  in  point  of  religious  importance, 
the  Levitical  Priesthood  was  inferior  not  Its  inferior 
only  to  the  Prophetic  office  which  stood  in 
direct  antagonism,  but  to  the  Lawgiver,  the  King,  and 
the  Psalmist.  Moses  was  incomparably  superior  to 
Aaron,  David  to  Abiathar,  Solomon  to  Zadok.  The 
vices,  even  the  idolatries  of  the  kingdom  of  Judah, 
received  from  them  hardly  an}^  rebuke.  They  served, 
as  it  would  appear,  the  altars  of  the  false  gods,^  as  well 
as  of  the  true.  Full  of  interest  and  beauty  as  is  the 
Book  of  Chronicles,  it  yet,  least  of  any  of  the  sacred 
books,  partakes  of  the  supernatural  gift  of  courageous 
impartiality  which  elsewhere  is  so  remarkable.  The 
whole  sacrificial  system  to  which  they  administered 
awakened,  in  the  highest  spirits  of  the  Jewish  Church 
itself,  a feeling  almost  amounting  to  aversion.  Its 
inferiority  to  the  rest  of  the  Mosaic  revelation  is  stated 
by  the  Prophets  in  terms  so  strong  as  almost  to  reject 
it  from  the  category  of  divine  ordinances  at  all.  ^^I 

spake  not  unto  your  fathers,  nor  commanded  them 
^^in  the  day®  that  I brought  them  out  of  the  land 

1 In  the  later  Prophetic  literature,  See  Jer.  xxxiii.  18,  21,  22;  Ezek. 
the  words  “ Priest  ” and  “ Levlte  ” are  xl.  46  ; xlill.  19;  xliv.  10,  15;  xlv. 
used  as  if  synonymous.  This  may  5;  xlvili.  13;  Mai.  ii.  4,  8;  hi.  3. 
have  arisen  from  the  gradual  diminu-  The  same  usage  prevails  in  Deut.  x. 
tion  of  the  Aaronic  family,  which  at  8,  9 ; xvil.  9,  18  ; xviii.  1;  xxi.  5; 
the  time  of  the  destruction  of  Jeru-  xxiv.  8;  xxvii.  9;  xxxi.  9.  'Ihls 
Salem  seems  to  have  been  reduced  to  peculiarity  of  phraseology  is  well  put 
five  (2  Kings  xxv.  18  ; comp,  xxlii.  4,  in  the  Bishop  of  Natal’s  work  on  the 
xii.  9)  ; and  which,  even  under  the  Pentateuch^  Part  3,  §§  542,  630,  568 
earlier  Kings,  does  not  seem  to  have  Ezek.  xx.  31,  40. 

\ een  much  more  numerous  since  the  ^ Jer.  vii.  22. 
nassacre  of  Nob  (see  Lecture  XXJ.). 


170 


THE  JEWISH  PRIESTHOOD 


Lect.  XXXVI 


Egypt  concerning  burnt  offerings  oi  sacrifices” 
“ Sacrifice  ^ and  burnt  offering  Thou  didst  not  desire.” 
‘^Was  it  to  Me^  that  ye  offered  sacrifices  and  burnt 
offerings  during  the  forty  years  in  the  wilderness  ? ” I 
delight  not  in  the  blood  of  bullocks  or  of  lambs  or  of 
he-goats.”  ^ ^‘1  hate  and  despise  your  feast  days.^  . . . 
Though  ye  offer  Me  burnt  offerings  and  your  meat 
offerings,  I will  not  accept  them : neither  will  I 
“ regard  the  peace  offerings  of  your  fat  beasts.”  Leave 
as  much  room  as  we  will  for  Oriental  diction,  grant 
that  the  expressions  may  have  been  sharpened  by  the 
peculiar  circumstances  of  the  time,  still  the  contempt, 
the  irony,  the  disgust  expressed  at  the  very  thought 
of  the  slaughtered  victims,  has  a strength  which  must 
be  of  universal  significance,  and  which  could  hardly 
be  exceeded  by  the  disdainful  language  of  Western 
philosophy  or  modern  Puritanism.  In  one  remarkable 
passage,  ascribed  to  Asaph  the  psalmist,  this  Prophetic 
protest  is  raised  to  the  rank  even  of  a new  revelation. 
There  God  is  described  as  descending  on  Mount  Zion, 
in  storm  and  fire,  as  He  had  before  descended  on 
Mount  Sinai,  and  declaring  not  merely  in  the  presence 
of  His  own  people,  but  to  the  whole  universe,  a deeper 
and  wider  law  even  than  that  of  Moses.  He  the  Lord 
of  the  world  stood  in  no  need  of  sacrifices.  It  was  not 
to  be  thought  that  He,  to  whom  belonged  the  number- 
less cattle  that  strayed  over  hill  and  forest,  could  desire 
to  devour  the  flesh  of  bulls,  or  drink  the  warm  blood 
of  the  goat.  The  only  sacrifice  which  He  could  value 
was  that  of  thanksgiving,  of  prayer,  and  of  a life  just^ 
pure,  tender,  and  true.^  This  is  a lesson  from  its  his- 

1 Ps.  xl.  6.  3 Isa.  i.  11. 

2 This  seems  the  most  probable  ^ Amos  v.  22. 

sense  of  Amos  v.  25  (Dr.  Pusey).  ® Ps.  1.  1,  2,  12,  13,  14,  23. 


Lbct.  XXXVI 


ITS  IMPORTANCE. 


471 


1 tory  wliichj  in  spite  of  its  wide  differ  ence  from  all 
I Christian  ministries  and  priesthoods,  they  may  still 
derive  from  it.  Any  religious  institution  which  has 
an  outward  organization  and  a long  traditional  sanctity 
must,  in  some  degree,  be  exposed  to  the  tendency  of 
' resting,  like  the  Jewish  Priesthood,  in  the  substitution 
of  dogma,  ceremony,  antiquity,  for  morality  and  devo- 
i tion.  That  the  Levitical  ritual  should,  even  in  the 
’ very  time  of  its  importance,  and,  we  may  add,  of  its 
I usefulness,  have  called  down  those  terrible  denuncia- 
* tions,  is  one  of  the  strongest  warnings  which  the  Bible 
I contains  against  the  letter  — the  form  — the  husk  — 
of  religion,  however -near  its  connection  with  the  most 
sacred  truths.  The  crime  of  Caiaphas  is  the  last  culmi- 
nating proof  that  the  opposition  of  the  Prophets  to 
the  growth  of  the  Priestly  and  Sacrificial  system  was 
I based  on  an  eternal  principle,  which  carries  with  it  a 
rebuke  to  the  office  which  bears  the  name  of  Priest- 
hood throughout  the  world. 

But  we  must  not  so  part  with  this  great  institution. 
That  in  spite  of  those  tremendous  denuncia- 
! tions,  and  in  spite  of  those  awful  consequences 
of  its  tendencies,  it  should  have  existed  at  all,  and 
received  a sanction  however  limited,  is  an  instance  of 
the  many-sided  character  of  the  Sacred  History.  The 
Jewish  Priesthood  was,  as  I have  said,  the  mere  skele- 
ton of  the  Jewish  religion  ; but  it  may  also  be  said  to 
have  been  its  backbone.  It  was  its  husk ; but  it  may 
also  be  said  to  have  been  its  hard  shell.  What 
Goethe  has  finely  remarked  of  the  Jewish 
people  itself,  that  its  chief  claim  before  the  judgment- 
seat  of  nations  is  its  steadfastness,  cohesion,  and  obsti- 
nate toughness,  is  exemplified  in  the  fullest  degree  in 


472 


THE  JEWISH  PRIESTHOOD. 


Lect.  XXXVl 


its  Priesthood.^  Compared  with  the  high  and  refined 
functions  of  Prophet  and  King,  and  Psalmist,  it  repels 
us  by  the  coarseness  of  its  grain  and  the  rudeness  of 
its  objects  j but  in  sheer  persistence  and  longevity  it 
surpassed  them  all.  It  is  a dynasty  which  began 
before  the  monarchy,  almost  before  the  Prophets.  It 
outlived  the  monarchy  altogether.  It  lived  on  through 
periods  when  Prophecy  had  totally  ceased.  It 
nessed  the  fall  of  the  Egyptian,  Assyrian,  Babylonian, 
Persian,  and  Grecian  empires.  It  formed  the  rallying- 
point  of  the  Jewish  nation  in  the  immense  void  of  the 
return  from  the  Captivity,  in  the  death-struggle  with 
Antiochus ; and  in  the  last  agony  of  the  nation,  the 
High  Priesthood  is  the  last  institution  visible  before 
the  final  crash  of  the  system.  And  although  since 
that  time  it  has  sunk  into  an  insignificance  which 
accords  well  with  its  secular  and  earthly  character,  yet 
it  is  the  only  institution  dating  back  as  far  as  the  mon-  j 
archy,  which  has  survived  even  in  form.  The  family 
names  of  “ Cohen  ” and  Levy  ” still  bear  witness  to  | 
the  long  recollection  of  ''  the  Priest  ” and  ''  the  Levite.”  | 
The  offices  still  linger,  though  in  a form  which  shows,  ' 
if  proof  were  needed,  how  entirely  distinct  they  are 
from  the  higher  spiritual  functions  of  teacher  or 
preacher.  The  Priests  still  bless  the  people  at  the 
close  of  certain  high  ceremonies,  and  for  a small  fee 
ransom  the  first-born  of  Jewish  families,  and  if  present 

1 <‘At  the  judgment-seat  of  the  and,  when  all  this  could  not  serve,  in 
God  of  nations,  it  is  not  asked  wheth-  obstinate  toughness  it  has  no  match, 
er  this  is  the  best,  the  most  excellent  It  is  the  most  perseverant  nation  in 
nation,”  but  “ whether  it  lasts,  wheth-  the  world  : it  is,  it  was,  it  will  be,  to 
er  it  has  continued.  The  Israelitish  glorify  the  name  of  Jehovah  through 
people  . . . possesses  few  virtues  and  all  ages.” — Wilhelm  Meister,  Travels, 
most  of  the  faults  of  other  nations;  chap.  xi. 
out  in  cohesion,  steadfastness,  valor, 


Leot.  XXXVI. 


ITS  IMPORTANCE. 


473 


at  the  synagogue  have  a right  to  read  the  law  before 
any  one  else.  The  Levites  pour  water  on  the  hands 
of  the  Priests  before  the  blessmg,  and  take  precedence 
after  them  in  reading  the  law.  The  triple  fingers  of 
the  benediction  mark  the  gravestone  of  a Priest;  the 
vase  of  water,  the  gravestone  of  a Levite.  The  mean- 
ness of  their  social  position,  — without  wealth,  without 
dignity,  without  the  right  of  preaching  or  exhortation, 
— the  mere  appendage  of  some  ordinary  trade,  im- 
mensely inferior  to  the  Rabbi,  who  is  the  real  repre- 
sentative of  the  modern  Jewish  Church,  is  of  itself  a 
direct  continuation  of  the  essential  characteristics  of 
their  ancient  office.  They  are  subordinate  now,  as 
they  were  subordinate  during  the  larger  part  of  their 
existence  in  ancient  times.  They  are  silent  as  teach- 
ers now,  as  they  usually  were  before.  Their  functions 
are  entirely  mechanical  now,  as  for  the  most  part  they 
were  always. 

In  the  Samaritan  community  the  office  is  somewhat 
more  important.  There  the  Rabbi  has  not  assumed  the 
position  which  he  occupies  in  modern  Judaism.  The 
alleged  descendants  of  Aaron,  who  are  supposed  to  have 
continued  at  Shechem  after  their  disappearance  from 
Jerusalem,  became  extinct  in  the  beginning^  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  But  their  functions  were  trans- 
ferred to  Levites,  by  whom  they  have  been  exercised 
ever  since. 

To  this  tenacity  of  life  it  is  owing  that,  when  out  of 
the  ruin  of  the  Jewish  Church  the  Christian  ciiristian 
Church  arose,  the  Priesthood  was  the  one  jJawITfrom 
fragment  of  the  ancient  system  standing  out 
in  unbroken  strength,  on  which  to  hang  the  new  truths 
which  the  Jewish  Apostles  had  to  present  to  their 

1 A.  D.  1631,  Mills’s  Nablus  and  Samaritans^  p.  186 


474 


THE  JEWISH  PRIESTHOOD. 


LEcr.  XXX  VT 


countrymen.  They,  indeed,  by  the  spirit  which  was  in 
them,  — their  Master  in  the  highest  sense  of  all,  — con- 
tinued the  line  of  the  Prophets  far  more  directly  than 
they  could  be  said  to  continue  or  even  to  use  the  merely 
national  and  local  institution  of  the  Priesthood.  Still, 
for  most  purposes  of  outward  illustration,  the  Priest- 
hood was  more  available  than  the  Prophetic  office.  The 
very  destruction  which  was  impending  over  it  rendered  ( 
more  imperative  the  need  of  showing  how  completely 
all  that  it  expressed,  or  could  possibly  express,  was  an- 
swered in  the  Christian  dispensation,  not  by  any  earthly 
or  ecclesiastical  organization,  but  by  the  spiritual  near- 
ness to  God,  which,  through  the  life  and  death  of  Christ,  J 
had  been  communicated  to  all  who  shared  in  His  Spirit.  ' 
The  stream  of  precious  oil  which  enveloped  the  High 
Priest  had  invested  him,  in  a prominent  degree,  with  the 
name  of  the  Messiah.”  The  Anointed  Priest,”  the 
Messiah  Priest,”  was  one  of  the  titles  of  his  office.  It 
was  to  the  succession  of  the  High  Priesthood  that  even 
Christian  writers  applied  the  Messiah  ” of  Danield 
And  when  the  name  of  the  Christ”  was  added  to  Jesus, 
the  son  of  Mary,  it  probably  suggested  to  His  con  tern-  : 
poraries,  beyond  any  other  thought,  that  He  was  conse-  ' 
crated  for  His  special  nearness  to  God  by  that  anointing  I 
of  moral  and  spiritual  fragrance,  which  breathed,  as  it 
were,  myrrh,  aloes,  and  cassia  from  all  His  garments. 
The  blood  of  bulls,  and  goats,  and  calves,”  is  treated 
almost  with  the  same  contempt  as  it  had  been  by  the 
ancient  Prophets.^  But  it  is  taken  to  shadow  forth  to 
those  who  had  seen  it  flowing,  the  only  true  sacrifice  of 
the  blood  ^ shed  on  Calvary,  — the  sacrifice,  not  of  dead, 
iirational  animals,  but  of  reasonable  beings  ^ in  the  com* 

1 Dan.  ix.  25,  26  ; Eus.  H.  E.  i.  6.  3 Heb.  ix.  14. 

2 Heb.  ix.  12,  13  ; x.  4.  4 Ibid.  x.  5-12;  Rom.  xii  1 


Lect.  XXXVI 


ITS  IMPORTANCE 


475 


men  acts  of  life,  and  of  the  will  and  spirit  of  Him  who, 
by  one  decisive  sacrificial  act,  destroyed  the  value  of  all 
Jewish  and  all  heathen  sacrifices  forever.  The  Priest- 
hood,” with  all  its  princely  magnificence  and  venerable 
usages,  became,  as  it  were,  a halo  of  glory  for  One  who 
both  in  life  and  death  dealt  against  it  the  heaviest  blow 
that  any  earthly  Priesthood  ever  sustained.  The  origi- 
nal idea  of  the  royal  Priesthood  of  the  whole  nation,  of 
which  the  Leviticai  Priesthood  had  been  a limitation 
and  faint  representation,  was  revived  by  the  Apostles  in 
its  application  to  the  whole  Christian  society,  and  has 
been,  to  a certain  degree,  preserved  in  the  chrism,”  or 
consecration  as  with  the  sacred  oil  of  Priesthood,  which 
in  the  Eastern  Church  indicates  at  Confirmation  the 
Priestly  consecration  of  every  member  of  the  Christian 
family.^ 

Even  the  last  waving  of  those  Priestly  vestments,  by 
which  the  office  was  handed  on  by  the  Roman  governors 
to  the  Asmonean  family,  has  left  its  trace  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  new  dispensation  which  swept  them  away 
from  the  world.  To  be  "clothed”  with  the  moral  graces 
of  the  new  faith,^  to  " endue,”  ^ that  is,  to  " enrobe  ” the 
justice  which  alone  is  the  true  priestly  consecration  of 
every  Christian  soul,  whether  layman  or  minister,  is  the 
precept  of  the  Christian  Apostle,  the  prayer  of  the 
Christian  Church. 

Thus  it  is  that  the  long  endurance  of  the  most  formal 
and  material  of  all  the  institutions  of  Judaism  was  at 
once  rewarded  and  rebuked,  as  in  a kind  of  sublime 
paradox,  by  being  made  the  vehicle  of  the  most  eternal 

I See  Quelques  Mots,  par  un  Chre-  3 English  Prayer  Book,  Prayer  in 
iien  Orthodoxe^  p.  53.  the  Ember  weeks. 

Rom.  xiii.  14;  Col.  ill.  9,  10  ; 1 
Peter  v.  5. 


476 


THE  JEWISH  PRIESTHOOD. 


I 


Lect.  XXX  VL 

and  spiritual  of  all  Christian  truths.  No  new  sense  was  ^ 
ever  won  for  old  words,  at  once  more  alien  to  their  out- 
ward sound,  or  more  consonant  to  their  inward  mean- 
ing, than  that  which  saw  in  the  decaying  Priesthood  of  \ 
the  Jewish  race,  the  anticipation  of  the  universal  con-/j 
secration  of  the  whole  world  by  Christ  and  His  Apostles.  1 
There  was  a secret  correspondence  of  thought  which ! 
made  this  application  possible  athwart  the  vast  differ- 1 
ences  of  time,  and  place,  and  circumstance.  The  Levit-ll 
ical  Priest  may  have  been  the  least  divine  of  all  the  j 
Mosaic  institutions.  The  Levitical  Book  of  Chronicles  | 
may  have  been  the  last  and  least  of  all  the  sacred 
books.  Caiaphas  may  have  been  the  impersonation  of  | 
all  that  was  narrowest  and  basest  in  the  J e wish  char-  j 
acter.  But  the  loftier  purposes  to  which  the  Priesthood 
at  times  ministered,  the  occasional  strains  as  of  a higherf^^j 
mood  that  break  even  through  the  ceremonial  narra-  I 
tives  of  the  Chronicles,  the  indomitable  determination,!  '!/ 
hereditary  in  the  highest  characters  of  the  tribe  of  . 
Levi,  — from  Phinehas  to  Caiaphas,  — go  far  to  justify 
the  sacred  homage  paid  to  an  institution  in  itself  so/ 
local  and  transitory,  Let  Thy  light  and  Thy  truth  be 
“with  Thy  holy  one.”  — “He  said  unto  his  father  and  ]l, 
“ unto  his  mother,  I have  not  seen  him,  neither  did  I 
“he  acknowledge  his  brother,  nor  know  his  own  chil-  |n 
“ dren.”  So  the  greatest  of  the  tribe  of  Levi  described  | 
their  stern  disregard  of  any  human  affection,  — the  A 
source  a t once  of  their  strength  and  of  their  weakness,  ^ 
of  their  faith  and  of  their  fanaticism.  So  he  described  i 
the  virtue  of  a religious  ministry  in  language  which  | 
may  rise  far  above  its  original  meaning,  to  denote  that 
high  impartiality  which  rises  beyond  all  earthly  and 
family  connections,  in  consideration  of  the  greater  claims 
of'  justice,  mercy,  and  truth ; and  through  the  long  con-  i 


Lect.  XXXVI. 


ITS  IMPORTANCE. 


477 


tinuance  of  their  power  and  of  their  name,  the  benedic- 
tion upon  them,  couched  in  language  almost  as  fierce  as 
their  own  deeds,  has  received  a fulfilment  beyond  that 
which  has  fallen  to  the  lot  of  any  other  earthly  organi- 
zation : “ Bless,  Lord,  his  substance,  and  accept  the  work 
of  his  hands  : smite  through  the  loins  of  them  that  rise 
against  him,  and  of  them  that  hate  him,  that  they  rise 
“ not  again.”  ^ 

1 DeuL  xxxiii.  8-1 1.  Compare  Michaelis’s  Laws  of  MoseSy  Art  52. 


LECTURE  XXXVIL 


ORIGINAL  AUTHORITIES. 

1.  “Book  of  the  Kings  of  Judah  and  Israel”  (Amaziah),  2 Chr.  xxv.  26  j 

Ibid.  (Ahaz)  xxviii.  26;  or  “of  Israel  and  Judah”  (Jotham)l 
xxvii.  7.  ' I 

2.  “ Book  of  the  Chronicles  ” (literally  ‘ words  of  the  days  *)  of  the  Kings  of 

Judah  (Amaziah),  2 Kings  xiv.  18;  Ibid.  (Azariah)  xv.  6;  Ibid 
(Jotham) ; xv.  36;  Ibid.  (Ahaz)  xvi.  19. 

3.  “ Acts  (literally  ‘ words  *)  of  Uzzlah,  first  and  last,”  by  Isaiah,  2 Chr 

xxvi.  22. 

4.  Joel ; Amos ; Micah ; Zech.  ix. — xi. ; Isaiah  i.  6 ; ii.  2 ; iv.  6 ; v.  1-14. 


LECTURE  XXXVIL 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH. 

The  century  on  which  we  now  enter  represents  a 
vigorous  struggle  of  three  able  sovereigns,  to  raise  the 
kingdom  from  the  state  of  depression  into  which  it  had 
fallen  since  the  death  of  Jehoshaphat,  — a struggle 
partly  successful,  but  partly  frustrated  by  calamities  be- 
yond the  control  of  human  power. 

The  first  step  was  the  reconquest  of  Edom  by  Amar 
ziah.  A victory  was  gained  in  the  neighbor-  Amaziah. 
hood  of  the  Dead  Sea,  Petra  was  taken,  and  the  837-8O8. 
prisoners  thrown  down  from  the  cliffs  of  their  own  city. 
This  enterprise  had  been  deemed  so  important,  that 
Amaziah  had,  in  the  first  instance,  hired  Israelite  mer- 
cenaries to  assist  him ; and  when  it  was  accomplished, 
he  was  so  elated  as  to  challenge  the  King  of  Israel  to 
fight  for  his  own.^  But  the  proud  House  of  Jehu  was 
not  thus  to  be  dealt  with.  Israel  was  just  beginning  to 
recover  from  its  misfortunes.  It  could  still,  as  compared 
with  the  little  kingdom  of  Judah,  take  the  attitude  of 
the  lofty  cedar  looking  down  on  the  humble  thistle.  A 
decisive  defeat  at  Bethshemesh  reduced  Amaziah  to 
submission.  The  northern  wall  of  Jerusalem  was  dis- 
mantled by  the  conqueror,  and,  as  usual,  the  sacred 
treasures  carried  off!  ^ For  fifteen  years  Amaziah  sur- 
vived the  disgrace  ; but  it  rankled  in  the  hearts  of  his 

1 2 Chr.  XXV.  6-17  ; 2 Kings  xlv.  2 2 Chr.  xxv.  18-24;  2 Kings  xiv. 
r,  8.  9-14. 


480 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH. 


Lect.  XXXV  a 


people.  He  was  murdered  at  Lachish,  a Philistine  for- 
tress now  rising  into  importance.  His  body  was  brought 
on  horseback  to  Jerusalem,  and  buried  in  state,  and  by 
a formal  popular  election  his  youthful  son  Uzziah  or 
Azariah  succeeded  to  the  throne.^ 

An  obscurity  rests  on  Uzziah’s  reign,  the  longest  ex- 
iTzziah.  cept  that  of  Manasseh,  the  most  prosperous 
808-757.  excepting  that  of  Jehoshaphat,  sir>ce  the  time 
of  Solomon.  In  the  narrative  of  the  Book  of  Kings 
this  long  period  is  passed  over  in  almost  absolute  silence. 
It  is  from  the  Book  of  Chronicles  that  we  derive  our 
impressions  of  his  splendor.  His  first  endeavor  w^as 
to  follow  up  his  father’s  conquest  of  Edom  by  the  re- 
establishment of  the  port  of  Elath,  and,  consequently, 
of  the  commerce  on  the  gulf  of  Akaba.  In  the  confu- 
sion which  attended  the  fall  of  the  House  of  Jehu,  large 
portions  of  the  east  and  southeast  of  the  Jordan  also 
fell  under  his  power.  The  wild  Arabian  tribes  that  had 
shown  such  an  independent  spirit  against  Joram  were 
subdued.^  The  Ammonites,  who  had  formerly  belonged 
to  the  Kings  of  Israel,  and  had  asserted  their  indepen- 
dence, paid  tribute  to  him.^  Into  the  southern  desert,  as 
far  as  the  frontier  of  Egypt,  his  name  spread  abroad.”  ^ 
On  the  west,  the  turbulent  Philistines  were  attacked, 
and  three  of  their  fortresses  razed  to  the  ground.® 

He  consolidated  his  internal  resources  in  every 
quarter.  The  weak  point  of  the  walls  of  Jerusalem 
which  had  suffered  from  the  late  inroad  of  Israel  he 
fortified.®  He  prepared,  seemingly  with  a skill  and  a 
zeal  unprecedented  in  the  military  experience  of  Judah 


1 2 Chr.  XXV.  27  ; xxvi.  1 ; 2 Kings 
xiv.  19-21. 

2 Chr.  xxvi.  2-7  (Heb.  and 
LXX.). 


3 2 Chr.  xxvi.  7,  8 ; Isa.  xvi.  1. 

4 2 Chr.  xxvi.  8. 

5 Ibid.  xxvi.  6. 

6 Ibid.  xxvi.  9. 


Lkct.  XXXVIl 


UZZIAH. 


481 


projectiles  of  all  sorts  against  besiegers,  as  well  as  the 
more  common  weapons  for  the  soldiers  of  the  army. 
The  army  was  reorganized.  The  ancient  body  of  the 
six  hundred  heroes  of  David  seem  to  have  been  super- 
seded by  a more  numerous  body,  bearing  the  same 
name,  but  consisting  of  the  heads  of  families.^  The 
numbering  of  the  fighting  population,  which  in  David’s 
reign  had  been  regarded  with  aversion  and  awe,  was 
now  effected  without  scruple,  under  the  chief  officers  of 
the  court  and  camp. 

Nor  was  he  neglectful  of  the  arts  of  peace.  He  built 
towers  on  the  frontier  of  the  desert.  He  dug  wells  for 
the  protection  and  support  of  his  numerous  herds  of 
cattle,  both  in  the  level  country  of  Philistia  and  in  the 
downs  on  the  east  of  the  Jordan.  He  had  vineyards  on 
the  southern  Carmel ; for  he  loved  husbandry.”  ^ 

In  all  these  departments,  his  success  seemed  to  cor- 
respond  to  his  double  name;  ^Hhe  strength  of  Jehovah” 
[Amr-ioh)  and  the  help  of  Jehovah”  (Z7^^-iah);  and, 
accordingly,  the  Chronicler  again  and  again  insists  on 
the  preeminent  greatness  he  had  attained.  ^^God  helped 
•‘him.”  “ He  himself  exceedingly.”  “He  was 

“ marvellously  helped  ” . . . “ he  was  strongT  ^ Nor  did 
his  prosperity  cease  at  his  death.  Slight  as  are  the 
notices  of  his  son  Jotham,  they  are  all  of  the  Jotham. 
same  Idnd.  He  fortified  the  city  and  Temple.  757^33. 
He  too  built  cities  on  the  Judean  mountains,  and  castles 
and  towers  in  the  forests.^  He  also  repressed  every 
effort  of  revolt  amongst  the  Ammonites,  and  of  him  as 
of  his  father,  though  more  shortly,  it  is  said  “ that  he  was 

1 2 Chr.  xxvi.  11-15.  for  “strength,”  however,  is  chezev^ 

2 Ibid.  xxvi.  10.  not  Uz. 

3 Ibid.  xxvi.  7,  8,  13,  15.  The  word  4 2 Chr.  xxvii.  3,  4. 
for  “help”  is  Azar.  The  word  used 

31 


VOL.  II. 


482 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVIi 


strong.”  ^ The  country  swelled  with  a consciousness 
of  vigor.  Its  cedars  of  Lebanon,  its  oaks  of  Bashan,  its 
high  mountains  and  hills,  covered  each  with  its  high 
tower  and  fortress,  seemed  to  defy  God  Himself.^  The 
commerce  of  Uzziah  still  loaded  the  ships  of  Tarshish 
with  articles  of  costly  and  beautiful  merchandise.^ 

But  in  this  prosperity  there  were  some  dark  spots,  of 
which  the  Historical  Books  report  hardly  anything,  but 
of  which  the  writings  of  the  contemporary  Prophets  are 
full,  and  which  led  the  way  to  the  rapid  decline  of  the 
next  period  on  which  we  shall  have  to  enter. 

The  locusts. 

ihere  was  the  tremendous,  ever  memorable, 
visitation  of  locusts.  It  came,  like  all  such  visitations, 
in  the  season  of  unusual  drought,  a drought  which  passed 
over  the  country  ^ like  flames  of  fire.  The  locusts  came 
from  the  north.^  The  brightness  of  the  eastern  sky 
was  suddenly  darkened  as  if  by  thick  clouds  on  the 
mountain-tops.  They  moved  like  a gigantic  army ; 
they  all  seemed  to  be  impelled  by  one  mind,  as  if 
acting  under  one  word  of  command ; ” ® they  flew  as  if 
on  horses  and  chariots  from  hill  to  hill ; never  breaking 
their  ranks,  they  climbed  over  the  walls  of  cities,  into 
the  windows  of  houses.  The  purple  vine,  the  green  fig- 
tree,  the  gray  olive,  the  scarlet  pomegranate,  the  golden 
corn,  the  waving  palm,  the  fragrant  citron,’  vanished 
before  them,  and  the  trunks  and  branches  were  left  bare 

1 2 Chr.  xxvii.  5,  8.  stitutes  an  exception  to  the  usual 

2 Isa.  ii.  13,  14.  direction  of  the  flights  of  locusts. 

5 Ibid.  ii.  16.  But  it  is  hardly  a sufficient  ground 

4 Amos  iv.  6-9  ; Joel  ii.  1-20.  It  for  explaining  away  the  locusts  into 
must  have  been  not  earlier  than  the  an  army  of  Chaldaeans. 

time  of  Joash,  not  later  than  the  time  6 These  are  the  words  of  an  eye 
of  Uzziah.  witness  (Morier).  Comp.  Joel  ii.  7 

5 Joel  ii.  20.  If  this  reading  is  '7  Joel  i.  12  (Heb.). 
torrect  (which  Ewald  doubts),  it  con- 


UCT.  XXXVII. 


THE  PLAGUE  OF  LOCUSTS. 


483 


and  white  by  their  devouring  teeth.  What  had  been 
but  a few  moments  before  like  the  garden  of  Eden  was 
turned  into  a desolate  wilderness.  The  herds  ^ of  cattle 
and  flocks  of  sheep  so  dear  to  the  shepherds  of  Judah, 
the  husbandmen  so  dear  to  King  Uzziah,  were  reduced 
to  starvation.  The  flour  and  oil  for  the  ^^meat  offer- 
ings ” failed ; ^ even  the  Temple  lost  its  accustomed 
sacrifices.  It  was  a calamity  so  great  that  it  seemed  as 
though  none  could  be  greater.  It  ^^had  not  been  in 
their  days  nor  in  the  days  of  their  fathers  j ^ there 
^^had  never  been  the  like,  neither  would  there  be  any 
more  after  it,  even  to  the  years  of  many  generations.” 
It  must  have  been  in  the  kingdom  of  Judah  what  the 
irought  of  Ahab’s  reign  had  been  in  the  kingdom  of 
Israel.  It  was  a day  of  Divine  judgment,  a day  of 
darkness  and  of  gloominess,  a day  of  clouds  and  thick 
da^rkness.^  The  harsh  blast  of  the  consecrated  ram’s 
horn  ^ called  an  assembly  for  an  extraordinary  fast. 
Not  a soul  was  to  be  absent.  Like  the  fiery  cross,  it 
convened  old  and  young,  men  and  women,  mothers  with 
infants  at  their  breasts,  the  bridegroom  and  the  bride 
on  their  bridal  day.®  All  were  there  stretched  in  front 
of  the  altar.  The  altar  ^itself  presented  the  dreariest 
of  all  sights,  a hearth  without  its  sacred  fire, 

o'.  ■ 

a table  spread  without  its  sacred  feast.  The 
Priestly  caste,  instead  of  gathering  as  usual  upon  its 
steps  and  its  platform,  were  driven,  as  it  were,  to  the 
further  space;  they  turned  their  backs  to  the  dead  altar, 
and  lay  prostrate  gazing  towards  the  Invisible  Pres- 


1 Joel  1.  18. 

2 Ibid.  i.  9,  10. 

3 Ibid.  i.  2,  3 ; il.  2. 

4 Ibid.  i.  15  ; li.  1,  37 . 

5 Ibid.  ii.  1 (Heb.). 


6 Joel  i.  14  ; ii.  15-17. 

Perhaps  itself  covered  with  sack- 
cloth. Joel  i.  13  ; comp.  Judith  iv 

11. 


184 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVU 


ence  within  the  sanctuary.  Instead  of  the  hymns  and 
music  which,  since  the  time  of  David,  had  entered  into 
their  prayers,  there  was  nothing  heard  but  the  passion 
ate  sobs,  and  the  loud  dissonant  howls  such  as  only  an 
Eastern  hierarchy  could  utter.  Instead  of  the  mass  of 
white  mantles,  which  they  usually  presented,  they  were 
wrapt  in  black  goat’s-hair  sackcloth,  ^ twisted  round 
them  not  with  the  brilliant  sashes  of  the  priestly  attire, 
but  with  a rough  girdle  of  the  same  texture,  which  they 
never  unbound  night  or  day.^  What  they  wore  of  their 
common  dress  was  rent^  asunder  or  cast  off.  With  bare 
breasts  they  waved  their  black  drapery^  towards  the 
Temple,  and  shrieked  aloud,  Spare  thy  people,  0 

Lord ! ” 

This  visitation  of  locusts,  if  it  did  not  of  itself  suggest 
any  darker  misfortunes,  at  any  rate  fell  in  with  constant 
apprehensions  of  wars  and  invasions.  Visions  of  the 
cruelty  of  the  Ammonites,^  fears  of  the  faithlessness  of 
Tyre,®  hovered  along  the  horizon  ; and,  along  with  these, 
a glimpse  into  the  unknown  world  of  Greece,^  to  which 
Jewish  children  were  sold  as  slaves  by  their  merciless 
neighbors ; a fate  to  them  so  dreadful  from  its  uncer- 
tainty and  distance  ; to  us  so  interesting  from  its  first 
combination  of  the  two  nations,  the  Hebrew  and  the 
Greek,  then  such  entire  strangers,  but  in  the  course  of 
ages  to  become  so  intimately  united  in  the  same  great 
cause.  It  was  to  repress  these  invasions  and  outrages 
that  the  constant  preparations  of  war  were  heard  in  the 

1 Joel  i.  8,  13.  Compare  Isa.  iii.  4 This  and  one  or  more  touches,  1 

24  ; 1.  3 ; also  Judith  iv.  14,  15.  have  ventured  to  add  from  the  similar 

2 Joel  i.  13  ; 1 Kings  xxi.  27.  passage  in  Judith  iv.  11-15. 

3 This  is  implied  in  the  frequent  ^ Amos  i.  13. 

rxpression  “ girt  upon  the  loins.  * 6 Ibid.  i.  9. 

Amos  viii.  10;  Joel  i.  8,  13;  and  Joel  iii.  6 
loseph.  B.  .7.  ii.  15,  § 4. 


Lect.  XXXVII. 


THE  EARTHQUAKE. 


485 


arsenals  of  Uzziah,  and  it  was  probably  the  contrast 
between  these  necessary  defences  and  the  peaceful  claims 
of  his  beloved  husbandry,  that  suggested  the  war-cry : 
Beat  your  ploughshares  into  swords,  and  your  pruning- 
hooks  into  spears ; let  the  weak  say,  I am  strong. 

. Put  in  the  sickle,  for  the  harvest  is  ripe;  . . . 
“ the  press  is  full,  the  vats  overflow.”  ^ 

There  was  yet  another  calamity  which  left  a deep 
impression  on  the  contemporary  writers  and  on  later 
tradition,  — ^^The  Earthquake,”  as  it  was  em-  The  Earth- 
-pliatically  called.^  The  whole  Prophetic  im- 
agery  of  the  time  is  colored  by  the  anticipations  or 
recollections  of  this  memorable  event.  Mountains  and 
valleys  are  cleft  asunder,  and  melt  as  in  a furnace  ; ^ the 
earth  heaving  like  the  rising  waters  of  the  Nile ; the 
sea  bursting  over  the  land  ; the  ground  shaking  and 
sliding,  as,  with  a succession  of  shocks,  its  solid  frame- 
work reels  to  and  fro  like  a drunkard.  The  day  is  over- 
clouded by  thick  darkness,  without  a glimmering  of 
light.  There  is  the  roar  as  of  a lion  from  the  caverns 
of  Jerusalem.  There  is  an  overthrow  like  that  which 
overthrew  the  cities  of  the  plain.^ 

It  is  strange  that  of  this  great  convulsion  the  sole 
trace  discoverable  in  the  Historical  Books^  is  to  be 
found  in  a combination  of  incidents  preserved  only 
in  the  later  narratives  of  Josephus®  and  of  the 
Chronicles,'^  but  which,  if  they  can  be  trusted,  serve 
to  fix  its  general  date  and  its  special  results  at  Jeru- 
salem. 

1 Joel  iii.  9-13.  leprosy  of  the  King,  and  omits  not 

2 Amos  i.  1.  only  the  account  of  his  exclusion 

3 Micah  i.  4.  from  the  Temple,  but  the  subsequent 

4 Amos  i.  2 ; iii.  8 ; ix.  5 ; Zech.  allusions  in  2 Chr.  xxvi.  21  ; xxvii.  2. 

cir.  5,  6.  6 yint.  ix.  10,  § 4. 

5 2 Kings  XV.  5 gives  only  the  ’ 2 Chr.  xxvi.  16-21. 


486 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVIl 


It  was  on  some  great  national  solemnity  that  Uzziah 
— elated,  according  to  the  Chronicler,  by  his  successes, 
but  certainly  in  conformity  with  the  precedents  of 
David  and  Solomon  — entered  the  Temple,  clothed, 
according  to  Josephus,  in  priestly  attire,  with  the 
intention  of  offering  incense  on  the  golden  altar  within 
the  sacred  building.  Whether  it  was  that,  in  the 
changes  that  had  elapsed  since  the  reign  of  Solomon, 
the  custom  had  dropped,  or  whether  Uzziah  entered 
upon  it  in  a haughty  and  irritating  spirit,  or  whether 
the  Priestly  order,  since  their  accession  of  power 
through  the  influence  of  Jehoiada,  claimed  more  than 
their  predecessors  had  claimed  in  former  times,  it  is 
said  that  the  High  Priest  Azariah,’  with  eighty  col- 
leagues, positively  forbade  the  King’s  entrance,  on  the 
ground  that  this  was  a privilege  peculiar  to  the 
Priestly  office.  At  this  moment,  according  to  Jose- 
phus, the  shock  of  the  earthquake  broke  upon  the 
city.  Its  more  distant  effects  were  visible  long  after- 
wards. A huge  mass  of  the  mountain  on  the  south- 
east of  Jerusalem  rolled  down  to  the  spring  of  Enrogel, 
and  blocked  up  the  approaches  of  the  valley  of  the 
Kedron  and  the  royal  gardens.  Its  immediate  effect, 
if  rightly  reported,  was  still  more  striking.  As  has 
happened  in  like  calamities,  even  in  Jerusalem  itself, 
the  solid  building  of  the  Temple  rocked,  its  roof 
opened,^  the  darkness  of  its  inner  recess  was  suddenly 
lighted  up  by  the  full  blaze  of  the  sun ; and  as  the 
King  looked  up  towards  it,  a leprous  disfigurement 
mounted  into  his  face,  and  rendered  necessary  that 

1 The  name  of  Azariah  the  Priest  Priests  of  this  time.  See  1 Chr  vi 
is  found  nowhere  else  than  in  2 11. 

Chr.  xxvi.  17,  20,  amongst  the  High  2 See  Sinai  and  Palestine^  chap. 

iii.  184. 


L*ct.  XXXVII. 


THE  NOBLES. 


48^/ 


exclusion  which,  on  the  ground  of  his  royal  descent 
had  been  doubtful.  He  retired  at  once  from  the  Tern 
pie,  — never  again  to  enter  it,  — and  for  the  remain- 
der of  his  life,  as  one  of  the  accursed  race,  remained 
secluded  within  the  public  infirmary.  His  grave  was 
apart  from  the  royal  vaults,  in  the  adjacent  field.^ 

This  incident,  however  interpreted,  is  the  culminat- 
ing point  of  the  collision,  more  or  less  plainly  The  growth 
indicated,  between  the  king  and  the  nobles  Priesthood, 
on  the  one  side  and  the  Priesthood  on  the  other,  and 
coincides  with  the  increase  of  power  which,  as  we  have 
seen,  had  been  accruing  since  the  reign  of  Joash,  and 
which  is  confirmed  by  the  contemporary  descriptions 
of  the  grandeur  of  the  Temple  ceremonial.  Numbers 
of  victims,  fed  up  for  the  purpose  of  sacrifice,  were 
constantly  brought  to  the  Temple,  — rams,  bullocks, 
lambs,  goats.  New  moons  and  sabbaths,  and  solemn 
assemblies,  were  faithfully  observed.^  On  occasion  of 
national  visitations,  the  Temple,  as  we  have  seen,  was 
filled  with  worshippers ; the  Priest,  for  the  first  time 
in  the  history,  occupying  the  most  prominent  place 
in  the  worship.® 

It  is  probable  that  this  was  part  of  the  great  and 
beneficial  reaction  which  must  have  taken 

ITT  iTi-T  • 1 nobles. 

place  under  Joash  and  Jehoiada  against  the 
licentious  and  half-pagan  worship,  which,  with  the 
exception  of  the  two  reigns  of  Asa  and  Jehoshaphat, 
had  prevailed  in  the  kingdom  of  Judah.  It  was  like 
the  still  more  rigid  revival  of  the  ceremonial  and 
hierarchical  system,  after  the  return  from  the  Cap- 
tivity, when  the  idolatrous  tendency  of  the  Jewish 
nation  was  finally  uprooted.  But  as,  in  that  latter 


1 2 Chr.  xxvii.  23. 
8 Isa.  i.  13,  14. 


3 Joel  i.  9,  13  ; ii.  17, 


^88 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVII 


instance,  it  ended  in  producing  an  artificial  and  fanati 
, cal  spirit,  against  which  Christianity  itself  in 
its  first  rise  was  a protest  at  once  most  awful 
and  most  merciful;  so,  in  this  earlier  instance,  these 
mechanical  observances^  had  a constant  tendency  to 
foster  that  divorce  between  Religion  and  morality, 
which  in  all  times  has  been  the  bane  of  the  religious 
world,  especially  in  the  East.^  The  antidote  was  pro- 
vided in  the  signal  development  of  the  Prophetical 
office,  which  marks  the  age  of  Uzziah. 

But  it  was  not  only  as  the  appointed  antagonists 
to  the  exaggerations  of  the  sacerdotal  system  that  the 
Prophets  arose  with  such  power  at  this  period.  The 
nobles  of  Judah  first  distinctly  appear  as  an  important 
body  in  the  reign  of  Joash,  and  it  would  seem  that 
their  luxury  and  insolence,  though  less  gross  than  that 
which  we  have  seen  in  the  corresponding  class  in 
Samaria,  was  yet  in  a high  degree  oppressive  and 
scandalous.  Bribery  was  practised  in  the  seats  of 
judgment,^  enormous  landed  property  ^ was  accumu- 
lated, against  the  whole  spirit  of  the  Israelite  common- 
wealth. With  the  determination,  and,  we  may  add, 
the  avarice,  of  their  race,  they  laid  their  deep  schemes 
at  night,  and  carried  them  out  with  their  first  wak- 
ing they  did  evil  with  both  hands ; they  skinned 
the  poor  to  the  very  quick,  they  picked  their  bones, 
and  ground  them  to  powder.  The  great  ladies  of 
Zion  were  haughty,  and  paced  along  the  streets,  toss- 
ing their  necks,  and  leering  with  their  eyes,  walking 

1 It  may  be  that  an  increase  of  striking  passage  in  Mills’s  Samar*> 
immorality  is  intended  in  2 Chr.  xxvii.  tans,  171. 

3.  But  probably  it  is  only  the  equiv-  3 Isa.  i.  1 ; x.  1 ; Micah  vi.  3. 

ulent  of  the  corresponding  phrase  in  ^ Isa.  v.  8. 

2 Kings  XV.  35.  5 Micah  ii.  1 ; vii.  3. 

2 For  this  Oriental  tendency  see  a ^ Ibid.  iii.  2,  3;  Isa.  ii.  14,  15. 


Lkct.  XXXVII. 


THE  PROPHETS. 


489 


and  mincing  as  they  went ; covered  with  tinkling  orna^ 
ments,  chains,  bracelets,  mantles,  veils,  of  all  fashions 
and  sizes.^ 

In  Judah,  as  in  Ephraim,  drunkenness  was  amongst 
the  higher  orders  a national  vice.  They  turned  their 
gigantic  energy  into  their  debauches.^  The  music  and 
poetry  which  David  had  founded  were  the  accompani- 
ments of  those  long  revels,  which  lasted  from  break 
of  day^  till  night.  When  the  vineyards  were  laid  waste 
by  the  locusts,  the  selfish  tears  and  cries  of  the  drunk- 
ard were  amongst  the  first"*  that  struck  the  listener’s 
ear. 

In  the  face  of  these  moral  and  social  evils,  combined 
with  the  physical  calamities  of  the  period,  a Proph- 
more  than  ordinary  consolation  was  required. 

That  consolation  was  in  some  degree  provided  by  the 
wise  and  upright  Kings,  especially  Uzziah  himself 
But  it  was  the  peculiar  characteristic  of  the  Jewish 
people,  that  the  hope  derived  from  these  earthly  ex- 
amples suggested  a higher  still.  It  was  the  glory  of 
the  reigns  of  David  and  Solomon  to  have  rendered 
possible  the  first  conception  of  a future  ruler,  an 
anointed  king,  of  their  descendants,  more  beneficent 
and  more  splendid  than  either.  It  was  the  glory  of 
the  reign  of  Uzziah  that  then  (as  far  as  we  know)  this 
idea  was  first  brought  forward  again  in  still  firmer 
and  larger  proportions,  though  in  less  warlike  and 
imperial  strains ; and  from  this  time  onwards  the  belief 
in  the  coming  of  the  Just,  Peaceful,  Merciful  King 
gained  a stronger  and  stronger  hold. 

The  earliest  of  the  Prophets  whose  writings  have 
come  down  to  us,  and  who  now,  in  the  decline  of  the 


I Isa.  ii.  10-20. 
« Ibid.  V.  22. 


3 Isa.v.  11, 12,  21. 
^ Joel.  i.  3. 


490 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH, 


Leot  xxxvn 


kingdom  of  Samaria,  were  gathering  more  closely 
round  the  throne  of  Judah,  is  Joel.  He  is  the  con- 
necting link  betAveen  the  older  Prophets  who  are 
known  to  us  only  through  their  actions  and  sayings, 
and  the  later  who  are  knowm  chiefly  through  their 
writings.  His  mode  of  address,  in  its  abruptness  and 
directness,  is  such  as  Ave  can  imagine  in  Elijah  himself 
On  the  occasion  of  the  visitation  of  locusts  before 
described,  it  was  he  avIio  came  forAvard  to  counsel,  or 
at  least  to  rouse  the  assembly,  — to  call  the  people  to 
the  outAvard  expression  of  repentance.  He  is  full  too 
of  the  ancient  spirit  of  Avar  and  vengeance.  But  the 
neAv  and  more  spiritual  element  is  already  at  work. 
Totally  unlike  as  that  scene  is,  in  all  its  external  feat- 
ures, to  any  modern  Avorship,  the  Prophetic  voice  of 
Joel  infuses  into  it  a higher  strain,  that  has  lasted  to 
our  own  time.  The  bare,  half-clothed  forms,  with  the 
clothes  hanging  round  them  in  strips  and  tatters,  are 
of  the  East  and  Eastern.  But,  ^^Rend  your  heart  and 
^^not  your  garments''^  is  the  true  key-note  of  spiritual 
worship,  fitly  prefixed  to  the  public  prayers  of  the 
most  Western  churches,  as  the  AA^arning  that  even  the 
most  passionate  expressions  of  external  devotion  are 
nothing  unless  the  intention  of  the  heart  goes  AAuth 
them.  With  a glance  that  reached  forwards  to  the 
most  distant  ages,  yet  had  immediate  reference  to  the 
enlargement  of  the  narrow  vieAVS  of  his  own  time,  he 
foretold,  as  the  chiefest  of  blessings,  that  the  day  Avas 
at  hand  Avhen  the  Prophetic  spirit  should  no  longer 
be  confined  to  this  or  that  class,  but  should  be  poured 
out  upon  all  humanity,  on  male  and  female,  on  old 
and  young,  even  on  the  slaves  and  humblest  inhabi- 
tants of  Jerusalem.^ 


1 Joel  ii.  13. 


2 Joel  ii.  28,  29 ; Acts  ii.  17 


Lkct.  XXXVII. 


THE  PROPHETS. 


491 


These  words,  receiving  their  fullest  accomplishnient 
centuries  afterwards,  were  yet  realized  almost  within 
that  generation  by  the  simultaneous  rise  of  Prophets  of 
all  degrees  of  cultivation,  and  from  every  station  of 
life.  The  few  who  are  known  to  us  are  doubtless  the 
representatives  of  many  more,  and  are  enough  to  indi- 
cate the  force  and  variety  of  the  revival  which  was  at 
work.  Some  of  them  were  wild  enthusiasts,^  in  whom 
it  was  difficult  to  distinguish  between  the  fumes  of  in- 
toxication and  the  fervor  of  inspiration  ; some  played 
into  the  hands  of  the  unprincipled  Priesthood,  whom 
they  were  meant  to  counteract,  and  affected  the  black 
Prophetic  dress  without  any  portion  of  the  Prophetic 
spirit.^ 

Others  there  were  who  lifted  up  the  burdens  ” of 
true  Prophetic  oracles  against  the  vices  of  the  ^ 
time.®  Amongst  these  was  one  who,  by  his 
humble  origin,  almost  literally  fulfilled  the  words  of 
Joel’s  description.  Amos,  the  sheepmaster  of  Tekoa, 
the  gatherer  of  figs,  the  Prophet  of  simple  style  and 
rustic  imagery,  appeared  in  the  close  of  Uzziah’s  reign. 
He  kept  his  sheep  and  goats  on  the  wild  hills  of  Judea, 
as  Nabal  on  a grander  scale,  and  David  on  a humbler 
scale,  had  kept  them  before.  His  writings  are  filled  with 
allusions  to  the  deep  clefts,  the  foaming  winter  torrents 
that  descend  to  the  Dead  Sea,  to  the  wild  animals,  espe- 
cially to  the  lions,  of  this  savage  district.  Although  his 
ministrations  were  chiefly,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  king- 
dom of  Israel,"^  yet  his  strong  denunciations  of  the  sacri- 
ficial and  ceremonial  system,  as  compared  with  the  mild 
rebuke  of  Joel,  show  the  growing  need  and  also  the 

1 Micah  ii.  11.  3 2 Chr.  xxiv.  19,  27  (Hel.). 

2 Isa.  xxix.  9,  10 ; Micah  iii.  5-7,  4 See  Lecture  XXVIII. 

11 ; Jer.  v.  31. 


m 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAIL 


Lect.  XXX  VJT 


growing  spirit  of  the  Prophetic  order  in  this  its  most 
important  function. 

Another  Prophet,  whose  character  and  position  is 
more  difficult  to  unravel,  was  Zechariah,  the 
favorite  Prophet  of  King  Uzziah  in  his  pros- 
perous days.  He  sought  God  in  the  days  of  Zechariah, 

who  had  understanding  in  the  visions  of  the  Lord.”  ^ 
It  cannot  be  proved,  but  it  is  very  probable,  that  this 
was  the  Prophet  whose  writings  are  now  in  part  com- 
prised under  the  name  of  the  later  Zechariah.  Like 
Amos,  he  directed  his  teaching  so  much  towards  the 
northern  kingdom  that  he  can  hardly  be  considered  in 
this  place.  But  he  is  clearly  a seer,  dwelling  at  Jeru- 
salem, and  in  his  mind  first  rises  distinctly  the  image  of 
the  Pacific  King,  not  seated  on  the  war-horse,  like  Asa 
or  Jehoshaphat,  in  their  martial  moods,  but  on  the 
gentle  ass,  like  Uzziah  in  his  earlier  and  brighter  days, 
just  and  lowly,  speaking  peace  to  the  heathen.^ 

A Jhird  Prophet  who,  like  Amos,  but  in  a higher  posi- 
tion, came  from  the  rural  district  of  Judah,  is 
Micah  the  Morasthite.  He  began  to  prophesy 
after  the  accession  of  Jotham.  His  name,^  even  his 
opening  address,  was  the  same,  word  for  word,  and  letter 
for  letter,  as  of  that  older  Micaiah,  who  could  prophesy 
nothing  but  evil  against  the  Kings  of  Israel,  and  who 
appealed  r and  and  round  to  every  single  citizen  of  the 
commonwealth.  He  was  filled  with  the  evils  of  his  time 
inward  and  outward.  Like  the  older  ^ prophets,  like 
the  anchorites  of  Russia,  he  stripped  off  his  clothes,  and 
went  about  naked,  beating  his  breast,  with  wild  shrieks 

1 2 Chr.  xxvi.  5.  xxii.  28  (Dr.  Pusey’s  Preface  to 

2 Zech.  ix.  9.  See  Lecture  Micah). 

JC^XXIV.  4 1 Sam.  xix.  24.  See  Lectures  cn 

3 Mica-jahu,  “ who  is  like  Jeho-  Eastern  Church.,  p.  393. 
rah  ?”  Compare  Micah  i.  1 ; 1 Kings 


I.ECT.  XXXVII. 


THE  PROPHETS. 


491 


and  lamentations,  like  the  long  piteous  cry  of  the  jackal, 
like  the  fearful  screech  ^ of  the  ostrich.  His  own  imme- 
diate neighborhood,  in  the  maritime  plain,  is  the  first 
scene  of  his  warnings.^  Village  ^ after  village  he  dooms 
to  destruction.  Their  familiar  names  appear  to  carry 
with  them  their  death-warrant.  His  eye  and  ear  are 
haunted  by  the  images  of  earthquakes' and  even  of  vol- 
canoes. He  is  struck  with  horror  at  the  drunkenness,^ 
the  robbery,  the  folly,  the  oppression  of  his  country. 
Not  only  from  nobles  and  priests,  but  from  his  own  Pro- 
phetic^ order,  he  turns  away  in  disgust.  One  remarkable 
instance  ® of  such  an  explosion  we  shall  meet  in  the  reign 
of  Hezekiah.  Wild  as  he  is  in  appearance,  and  terrible 
in  his  denunciations,  there  are  in  him,  beyond  any  of  the 
Lesser  Prophets  of  this  time,  soul-stirring  recollections, 
^And  hopes  their  bright  reflections.”  On  him,  first 
of  the  Prophets,  the  events  of  the  past  history  crowd  in 
vivid  succession,  even  as  we  ourselves  see  them  in  the 
present  sacred  books,  — Abraham  and  Jacob,^  the  won- 
ders® of  the  Exodus,  the  interview®  of  Balaam  and  Balak, 
the  delightful  stay  of  the  pastoral  tribes^®  in  the  forests 
beyond  the  Jordan  on  the  eve  of  the  conquest.  To 
him  more  distinctly  than  to  any  previous  Prophet,  comes 
the  assurance  that,  in  spite  of  all  her  calamities  and  her 
crimes,  Jerusalem  shall  become  the  capital  of  a vast 
spiritual  and  intellectual  empire,^^  and  that  a mighty 
Conqueror  shall  shatter  in  pieces  all  the  obstacles^®  that 
close  up  the  free  energies  of  his  people  ; that  a Euler 


1 Micah  i.  8 (Dr.  Pusey,  Pref.). 

2 Micah  i.  10-15. 

3 Ibid.  i.  13-16  (see  Dr.  Pusey’s 
^^ref.  p.  293). 

4 Ibid.  ii.  1,  8,  11  ; iii.  1. 

5 Ibid.  iii.  5-8. 

« See  Lecture  XXXVIII. 

7 Micah  vii.  20. 


8 Micah  vi.  4 ; vii.  15. 

2 Ibid.  vi.  4,  5. 

10  Ibid.  ii.  12;  vii.  14. 

11  Ibid.  iii.  1-4. 

12  Ibid.  ii.  13  (?).  See  Ewald,  Prvw 
plieten^  p.  333. 

13  Micah  v.  1-4. 


494 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVII. 


shall  come,  even  in  his  own  time,  who  shall  set  all  things 
right,  and  who,  though  having  a past  in  the  most  an- 
cient days,  shall  be  born  in  the  Prophet’s  own  immediate 
neighborhood,  the  small  insignificant  village  of  Bethle- 
hem. He  gives  to  the  warlike  cry  of  Joel  a turn  which 
henceforth  becomes  its  authorized  rendering ; when,  in- 
stead of  a reign  of  war,  he  anticipates  universal  peace : 
They  shall  beat  their  swords  into  ploughshares,  and 
their  spears  into  pruning-hooks.”  ^ There  will  be  a 
shepherd  more  royal  even  than  David  ; ^ a peace  even 
more  universal  than  that  of  Solomon.”  ^ 

He  trusts  with  unshaken  faith  in  the  gracious  future 
which  God  has  in  store  for  his  nation  and  for  himself 
^^'Wlio  is  a God  like  Thee,^  pardoning  iniquities,  and 
passing  by  transgressions  for  the  remnant  of  His  heri- 
tage.  He  retaineth  not  His  anger  for  ever,  because  He 
‘^delighteth  in  mercy.  He  will  again  have  compassion 
upon  us.  He  will  subdue  our  iniquities ; yea.  Thou 
wilt  cast  all  their  sins  into  the  depths  of  the  sea.” 
And  his  last  words  are  those  which,  centuries  after- 
wards, were  caught  up  b}^  the  aged  Priest  whose  song 
unites  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  ^ together.  “ Thou 
wilt  perform  the  truth  to  Jacob,  and  the  mercy  to 
“ Abraham,  which  Thou  hast  sworn  ; ” to  send  forth  a 
second  David,  the  mighty  Child,  whose  unknown  mother 
is  already  travailing  for  his  birth. 

Exactly  contemporary  with  Micah  — it  is  hard  to  say 
whether  older  or  younger®  — is  a still  greater 
Prophet,  who  stands  out  at  once  as  the  repre- 

1 Micah  iv.  2,  comp.  Joel  iii.  10.  Jehovah  ? ” See  Dr.  Pusey,  Pref.  p. 

2 Ibid.  ii.  12;  iv.  6,  8 ; v.  4,  5 ; 288. 

vii.  14.  ^ Micah  vli.  18-20;  Luke  i.  72, 

3 Ibid.  iv.  3.  73. 

4 Ibid.  vii.  18.  Possibly  in  allusion  6 Ewald  makes  him  to  be  younger, 
to  his  name  Micaiab,  “ who  is  as  Dr.  Puse'  to  be  older. 


Lect.  XXX  ra. 


ISAIAH. 


405 


sentative  of  his  own  age,  and  yet  as  a universal  teachei 
of  mankind.  Whilst  the  other  Prophets  of  this  period 
are  known  only  to  the  by-paths  of  theology,  in  the 
quaint  text  of  remote  preachers,  Isaiah  is  a household 
word  everywhere.  This  is  the  first  point  in  the  history 
of  the  kingdom  of  Judah,  where,  as  in  common  eccle- 
siastical history,  we  are  able  to  measure  the  periods  by 
the  names  rather  of  distinguished  teachers  than  of 
Kings  or  Chief  Priests.  In  the  earlier  stages  of  the 
history  of  Judah  there  was  no  Prophet  of  magnitude 
equal  to  Jehoshaphat,  or  Jehoiada,  or  Uzziah.  But  in 
the  period  on  which  we  now  enter  there  is  no  King  or 
Priest  of  magnitude  equal  to  Isaiah,  and  he  was  suc- 
ceeded by  two  others,  only,  if  at  all,  inferior  to  himself, 
Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel.  For  the  first  time  since  Elisha 
we  have  a Prophet,  of  whose  life  and  aspect  we  can  be 
said  to  have  any  details.  He  was  statesman  as  well  as 
Prophet.  He  lived  not  in  the  remote  villages  of  Judah 
like  Micah,  or  wandering  over  hill  and  dale  like  Elijah  and 
Amos,  but  in  the  centre  of  all  political  life  and  activity. 
His  whole  thoughts  take  the  color  of  Jerusalem.  He  is 
the  first  Prophet  specially  attached  to  the  capital  ^ and 
the  court.  He  was,  according  to  Jewish  tradition,^  the 
cousin  of  Uzziah,  his  father  Amoz  being  held  to  be  a 
younger  son  of  Joash.  He  wrote  Uzziah’s  life;®  and  his 
first  Prophecies,  beginning  in  the  close  of  that  reign, 
illustrate  the  reign  of  Jotham,  as  well  as  of  the  three 
succeeding  sovereigns.  His  individual  and  domestic  life 
was  a kind  of  impersonation  of  the  Prophetic  office. 
His  wife  was  a Prophetess.^  According  to  a practice 
which  seems  to  have  prevailed  throughout  his  career,  as 

1 Ewald,  Propheten^  p.  1G8.  3 2 Chr.  xxvi.  2.^. 

* See  the  quotations  in  Gescnius,  ^ jga.  viii.  3. 

/esaiOf  Einl.  § 1. 


496 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVII. 


through  that  of  his  contemporary  Hosea.  he  himself  and 
his  children  all  bear  Prophetic  names : Behold  I and 

the  children  whom  the  Lord  hath  given  me  are  for  a 
sign  and  a wonder  in  Israel  from  the  Lord  of  Hosts.”  ^ 
He  had  a circle  of  disciples,^  probably  of  Prophets,  in 
whom  his  spirit  was  long  continued.  One  such,  un- 
known except  through  his  writings/  in  all  probability 
has,  if  so  be,  under  the  shadow  of  his  name,  exercised  a 
still  wider  influence  than  Isaiah  himself  Legends, 
apocryphal  books,  have  gathered  round  him  as  round 
another  Solomon  or  another  Elijah.  Of  no  other  book 
of  the  Old  Testament,  except  the  Psalter,  have  the  sub- 
sequent effects  in  the  world  been  so  marked,  or  the 
principles  so  fruitful  of  results  for  the  future.  In  fact 
his  appearance  was  a new  step  in  the  Prophetic  dispen- 
sation. The  length  of  his  life,  the  grandeur  of  his  social 
position,  gave  a force  to  what  he  said,  beyond  what  was 
possible  in  the  fleeting  addresses  of  the  humbler  Proph- 
ets who  had  preceded  him.  There  is  a royal  air  in  his 
attitude,  in  his  movements,  in  the  sweep  of  his  vision, 
which  commands  attention.  He  was  at  once  great  and 
faithful”  in  his  vision.”^  Nothing  escapes  him  in  the 
events  of  his  time.  The  older  Prophetic  writings  are 
worked  up  by  him  into  his  own  words.  He  does  not 
break  with  the  past.  He  is  not  ashamed  of  building  on 
the  foundation  of  those  who  have  gone  before  him.  All 
that  there  is  of  general  instruction  in  Joel,  Micah,  or 
Amos,  is  reproduced  in  Isaiah.  But  his  style  has  its 
own  marked  peculiarity  and  novelty.  The  fierce  im- 
passioned addresses  of  Joel  and  Nahum,  the  abrupt 
strokes,  the  contorted  turns  of  Hosea  and  Amos,  give 

3 Isaiah  xJ. — Ixvi.  See  Lecture 
XL. 

4 Ecclus.  xlviii.  22. 


1 Isaiah  viii.  18. 

2 Ibid.  viii.  ib. 


Lkct.  XXXVII. 


ISAIAH. 


497 


way  to  something  more  of  a continuous  flow,  where 
stanza  succeeds  to  stanza,  and  canto  to  canto,  with 
almost  a natural  sequence.  Full  of  imagery  as  is  his 
poetry,  it  still  has  a simplicity  which  was  at  that  time 
so  rare  as  to  provoke  the  satire  of  the  more  popular 
Prophets.  They,  pushing  to  an  excess  the  nervous  rhet- 
oric of  their  predecessors,  could  not  bear,  as  they  ex- 
pressed it,  to  be  treated  like  children.  Whom  shall  he 
‘Heach  knowledge,  and  whom  shall  he  make  to  under- 
stand  doctrine  ? Them  that  are  weaned  from  the  milk, 
and  drawn  from  the  breasts  ! ” Those  constant  recur- 
rences of  the  general  truths  of  spiritual  religion,  majestic 
in  their  plainness,  seemed  to  them  mere  commonplace 
repetitions; — precept  upon  precept,  precept  upon  pre- 
cept,  line  upon  line,  line  upon  line,  here  a little,  there 
a little ; ” or  as  appears  still  more  strongly  in  the  origi- 
nal,^ hav  la-tsav  — isav  la-tsav  — kav  la-kav  — kav  la-kav, 
— zeir  sham,  zeir  shamr  It  is  the  universal  complaint 
of  the  shallow  inflated  rhetoricians  of  the  professedly 
religious  world  against  original  genius  and  apostolic 
simplicity,  the  complaint  of  the  babblers  of  Ephesus 
against  St.  John,  the  protest  of  all  scholastic  and 
pedantic  systems  against  the  freeness  and  the  breadth 
of  a Greater  than  John  or  Isaiah.  Such  divine  utter- 
ances have  always  appeared  defective,  and  unimpas- 
sioned,  and  indefinite,  in  the  ears  of  those  who  crave 
for  wilder  excitement  and  more  elaborate  systems,  but 
have  no  less  found,  for  that  very  reason,  a sure  re- 
sponse in  the  childlike,  genuine,  natural,  soul  of  every 
age. 

The  special  objects  of  Isaiah’s  mission  will  appear 
as  we  pass  through  his  history.  But  the  general 
objects  are  best  indicated  in  the  account^  which  lie 

1 Jsa.  xxviii.  9~13  (Ewaki). 

VOL.  II.  32 


Isa.  vi. 


498 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH 


LEcr.  XXX  VII 


himself  has  left  us  of  his  call,  or  (as  we  should  now 
describe  it)  his  conversion,  to  the  Prophetical  office. 

^^In  the  year  that  King  Uzziah  died,”  in  the  last 
The  call  of  year  of  that  long  reign  of  fifty-two  years,  as 
B.  c.  757.  the  life  of  the  aged  King,  now  on  the  verge 
of  seventy,Avas  drawing  to  its  close  in  the  retirement 
of  the  house  of  lepers,  the  young  Isaiah  was,  or  in 
vision  seemed  to  be,  in  the  court  of  the  Temple.  He 
stood  at  the  gate  of  the  porch,  and  gazed  straight 
into  the  Holy  Place,  and  into  the  Holy  of  Holies  itself.  ' 
All  the  intervening  obstacles  were  removed.  The 
great  gates  of  cedar-wood  were  thrown  open,  the 
many-colored  veil  that  hung  before  the  innermost 
sanctuary  was  drawn  aside,  and  deep  within  was  a 
throne  as  of  a King,  high  and  lifted  up,  towering  as 
if  into  the  sky.  What  was  the  form  that  sat  thereon, 
here,  as  elsewhere,  the  Scripture  forbears  to  describe. 
Only  by  outward  and  inferior  images,  as  to  us  by  sec- 
ondary causes,  could  the  Divine  Essence  be  expressed. 
The  long  drapery  of  His  train  filled  the  Temple,  as 
‘^His  glory  fills  the  earth.”  Around  the  throne,  as 
the  cherubs  on  each  side  of  the  mercy-seat,  as  the 
guards  round  the  King,  with  head  and  feet  veiled, 
figures  floating  like  flying  serpents,’  themselves  glow- 
ing with  the  glory  of  which  they  were  a part,  whilst 
vast  wings  enfolded  their  faces  and  their  feet,  and 
supported  them  in  mid-air  round  the  throne.  From 
side  to  side^  went  up  a hymn  of  praise,  which  has 
since  been  incorporated  in  the  worship  of  Christen- 
dom, and  which  expressed  that  He  was  there  who  bore 

1 Saraph.  Compare  the  Brazen  Dent.  viii.  15),  and  is  used  nowhere 
Serpent  used  at  this  time  (2  Kings  else. 

xviil.  4).  The  word  saraph  is  used  Neither  beginning  till  the  other 

in  Isaiah,  and  for  the  fiery  serpents  gave  permission,  as  in  the  synagogues 
in  tlie  wilderness  (Num.  xxi.  6;  (Rashl,  in  Gesenius,  p.  121). 


Lect.  XXXVII. 


THE  CALL  OF  ISAIAH. 


499 


the  great  Name  by  which  God  was  specially  known 
in  the  period  of  the  Jewish  monarchy  and  in  the 
Prophetical  order/  — ^Hhe  Lord  of  Hosts.”  The  sound 
rang  like  thunder  to  the  extremity  of  the  Temple. 
The  pillars  of  the  gateway  trembled,^  as  if  in  another 
earthquake-shock,  and  the  whole  building  within  grew 
dark  as  with  the  smoke  of  a vast  sacrifice.  It  was 
a sight  and  sound  which  the  youthful  Isaiah  recog- 
nized at  once  as  the  intimation  of  Divinity.  It  was 
the  revelation  of  the  Divine  Presence  to  him,  as  that 
of  the  Burning  Bush  to  Moses,  or  of  the  Still  Small 
Voice  to  Elijah,  — the  inevitable  prelude  to  a Prophetic 
mission,  couched  in  the  form  most  congenial  to  his 
own  character  and  situation.  To  him,  the  Koyal 
Prophet  of  Jerusalem,  this  manifestation  of  Royal 
splendor  was  the  almost  necessary  vesture  in  which 
the  Spiritual  Truth  was  to  be  clothed.  All  his  own 
sins,  — we  know  not  what  they  were,  — and  the  sins 
of  his  nation,  — as  we  know  them  from  himself  and 
the  contemporary  Prophets,  — passed  before  him,  and 
he  said,  ^^Woe  is  me,  for  I am  lost,  because  I am  a 
^^man  of  unclean  lips,  and  I dwell  amongst  a people 

of  unclean  lips ; for  mine  eyes  have  seen  the  King, 
^Hhe  Lord  of  Hosts.”  A Rabbinical  tradition,  proba- 
bly baseless,  took  possession  very  early  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church,  that  his  sin  had  been  an  acquiescence 
in  the  sin  of  Uzziah,  and  that  the  gift  of  prophecy 
then  removed  from  him  was  now  to  be  restored.^ 
But  his  own  words  rather  lead  to  the  impression 

1 The  word  is  used  13  times  in  the  ^ It  is  supposed  to  be  the  Divine 
Books  of  Samuel,  G2  times  in  Isaiah,  judgment  and  earthquake  on  Uzziah 
65  times  in  Jeremiah,  but  only  3 (Rashi,  in  Gesenius,  p.  121). 
times  in  the  Chronicles  (Mr.  Twisle-  3 See  Gesenius  on  Isa.  vi.,  pp.  5^ 
.«n  on  the  Books  of  Samuel,  Did.  of  6,  7,  120,  254,  261. 

*.he  Bible).  See  Lecture  XXIII. 


500 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH. 


Lect.  XXX  VII 


that  it  was  his  language,  and  the  language  of  his 
countrymen,  that  was  to  blame : a foul-mouthed  son 

of  a foul-mouthed  race.”  On  these  defiled  lips,  there- 
fore, the  purifying  touch  was  laid.  From  the  flaming 
altar,  the  flaming  seraph  brought  a flaming  coal.  This 
was  the  creation,  so  to  speak,  of  that  marvellous  style 
which  has  entranced  the  world ; the  burning  furnace  ^ 
which  warms,  as  with  a central  fire,  every  variety  of 
his  addresses.  Then  came  the  Voice  from  the  sanc- 
tuary, saying,  ‘^Whom  shall  1 send,  who  will  go  for 
Us  ? ” With  unhesitating  devotion,  the  youth  replied. 

Here  am  I ; send  me.”  In  the  words  that  follow  is 
represented  the  whole  of  the  Prophet’s  career.  First, 
he  is  forewarned  of  the  forlorn  hopelessness  of  his 
mission.  The  louder  and  more  earnest  is  his  cry,  the 
less  will  they  hear  and  understand,  — the  more  clearly 
he  sets  the  vision  of  truth  before  them,  the  less  will 
they  see.  Make  the  heart  of  this  people  gross,  and 
^^make  their  ears  heavy,  and  shut  their  eyes,  lest  they 
"see  with  their  eyes,  and  hear  with  their  ears,  and 
" understand  with  their  heart,  and  be  converted  and 
"healed.”^  These  mournful  words,  well  known  to  us 
through  their  fivefold^  repetition  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment as  the  description  of  the  Jewish  people  in  its 
latest  stage  of  decay,  were  doubtless  true  in  the 
highest  degree  of  that  wayward  generation  to  which 
Isaiah  was  called  to  speak.  His  spirit  sank  within 
him,  and  he  asked,  " 0 Lord,  how  long  — Usque  quo, 
" Domine  ? ” The  reply  unfolded  at  once  the  darker 
and  the  brighter  side  of  the  future.  Not  till  suc- 

1 “ Si  quis  penitus  posset  intro-  2 Jsa.  vi.  10. 

Bpicere  afflatus  Proplietae,  videret  in  ^ Matt.  xiii.  1 3 ; Mark  iv.  12;  Luke 
singulis  verbis  caminos  ignis  et  vehe-  viii.  10;  John  xii.  39;  Acts  xxviii 
mentissinios  ardores  esse.”  (Luther,  25. 

0/>p.  iii.  p.  286.) 


UCT.  XXXVII. 


THE  CALL  OF  ISAIAH. 


501 


3essive  invasions  had  wasted  the  cities,  not  till  the 
houses  had  been  left  without  a human  being  within 
them,  not  till  the  land  had  been  desolate  with  desolar 
tion,  would  a better  hope  dawn ; not  till  the  invasions 
of  Pekah  and  Sennacherib  had  done  their  work,  not 
till  ten  out  of  the  twelve  tribes  had  been  removed 
far  away,  and  there  should  have  been  a great  forsak- 
ing in  the  midst  of  the  land,  would  he  be  relieved 
from  the  necessity  of  delivering  his  stern,  but  fruitless, 
warnings,  against  the  idolatry,  the  dulness,  the  injustice 
of  his  people.  But  widely  spread  and  deeply  seated 
as  was  the  national  corruption,  there  was  still  a sound 
portion  left,  which  would  live  on  and  flourish.  As 
the  aged  oak  or ' terebinth  of  Palestine  may  be  shat- 
tered, and  cut  down  to  the  very  roots,  and  yet  out  of 
the  withered  stump  a new  shoot  may  spring  forth,  and 
grow  into  a mighty  and  vigorous  tree,  so  is  the  holy 
seed,  the  faithful  few,  of  the  chosen  people.^  This  is 
the  true  consolation  of  all  Ecclesiastical  History.  It 
is  a thought  which  is  but  little  recognized  in  its 
earlier  and  ruder  stages,  when  the  inward  and  outward 
are  easily  confounded  together.  But  it  is  the  very 
message  of  life  to  a more  refined  and  complex  age, 
and  it  was  the  key-note  to  the  whole  of  Isaiah’s 
prophecies.  It  had,  indeed,  been  dimly  indicated  to 
Elijah,  in  the  promise  of  the  few  who  had  not  bowed 
the  knee  to  Baal,  and  in  the  still  small  whisper  which 
was  greater  than  thunder,  earthquake,  and  fire.  But 
in  Isaiah’s  time  it  first,  if  we  may  say  so,  became  a 
living  doctrine  of  the  Jewish  Church,  and  through  hiiii 
an  inheritance  of  the  Christian  Church.  A remnant 

— the  remnant.”^  This  was  his  watchword.  “The 

1 See  Isa.  vi.  1,3.  jects  of  the  Day^  p.  218,  EwaM, 

2 Ibid.  X.  20;  xi.  11,  16;  xxvili.  Propheten,  169. 

5.  Dr.  Newman’s  Sermons,  On  Sub- 


502 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZTAH. 


Lect.  XXX  VII 


^‘remnant  shall  return  [shear-jashuh)!'  This  was  the 
truth  constantly  personified  before  him  in  the  name  of 
his  eldest  son.  A remnant  of  good  in  the  mass  of 
corruption,  a remnant  saved  from  the  destructive  inva- 
sions of  Assyria,  a burst  of  spring-time  in  the  Refor- 
mation of  Hezekiah ; and,  far  away  in  the  distant 
future,  a rod  out  of  the  stem,  the  worn-out  stem  of 
Jesse,  — a branch,  a faithful  branch,  out  of  the  withered 
root  of  David ; and  the  wilderness  and  the  solitary 
place  shall  be  glad,  and  the  desert  shall  rejoice,  and 
blossom  as  the  rose ; it  shall  blossom  abundantly, 
even  with  joy  and  singing,  and  sorrow  and  sighing 
shall  flee  away.”^ 

Such  was  the  hope  and  trust  which  sustained  the 
The  mission  P^ophet  tlirough  his  sixty  years  of  toil  and  con- 
of  Isaiah.  weakness  of  Ahaz,  in  the  calami- 

ties of  Hezekiah,  under  the  tyranny  of  Manasseh,  Isaiah 
remained  firm  and  steadfast  to  the  end.  Wider  and 
wider  his  views  opened,  as  the  nearer  prospects  of  his 
country  grew  darker  and  darker.  First  of  the  Prophets, 
he  and  those  who  followed  him  seized  with  unreserved 
confidence  the  mighty  thought,  that  not  in  the  chosen 
people,  so  much  as  in  the  nations  outside  of  it,  was  to 
De  found  the  ultimate  well-being  of  man,  the  surest 
favor  of  God.  Truly  might  the  Apostle  say  that  Isaiah 
was  very  bold,”  — bold  ^ beyond  ” all  that  had  gone 
before  him — in  enlarging  the  boundaries  of  the  Church  ; 
bold  with  that  boldness,  and  large  with  that  largeness 
jf  view,  which  so  far  from  weakening  the  hold  on  things 
divine,  strengthens  it  to  a degree  unknown  in  less  com- 
prehensive minds.  For  to  him  also,  with  a distinctness 
which  makes  all  other  anticipations  look  pale  in  com- 
parison, a distinctness^  which  grew  with  his  advancing 

1 Isa.  xi.  1 ; xxxv.  1.  3 Ewald,  Propheten,  169,  170. 

* Rom.  X.  20,  aTVOTO?ifc^. 


Lect.  XXXVII. 


THE  MISSION  OF  ISAIAH. 


503 


years,  was  revealed  the  coming  of  a Son  of  David,  who 
should  restore  the  royal  house  of  Judah  and  gather  the 
nations  under  its  sceptre.  If  some  of  these  predictions 
belong  to  that  phase  of  the  Israelite  hope  of  an  earthly 
empire,  which  was  doomed  to  disappointment  and  rever- 
sal, yet  the  larger  part  point  to  a glory  which  has  been 
more  than  realized.  Lineament  after  lineament  of  that 
Divine  Ruler  was  gradually  drawn  by  Isaiah  or  his 
scholars,  until  at  last  a Figure  stands  forth,  so  marvel- 
lously combined  of  power  and  gentleness  and  suffering, 
as  to  present  in  the  united  proportions  of  his  descrip- 
tions the  moral  features  of  an  historical  Person,  such  as 
has  been,  by  universal  confession,  known  once,  and  once 
only,  in  the  subsequent  annals  of  the  world. 

The  task  laid  upon  the  Prophet  was  difficult,  the 
times  were  dark.  But  his  reward  has  been  that,  in  spite 
of  the  opposition,  the  contempt,  and  the  ridicule  of  his 
contemporaries,  he  has  in  after  ages  been  regarded  as 
the  messenger  not  of  sad  but  of  glad  tidings,  the 
Evangelical  Prophet,  the  Prophet  of  the  Gospel,  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  meaning  of  his  own  name,  which  he 
liimself  regarded  as  charged  with  Prophetic  significance,^ 
— the  Divine  Salvation.” 

No  other  Prophet  is  so  frequently  cited  in  the  New 
Testament,  for  none  other  so  nearly  comes  up  to  the 
Spirit  of  Christ  and  the  Apostles.  No  other  single 
teacher  of  the  Jewish  Church  has  so  worked  his  way 
into  the  heart  of  Christendom.  When  Augustine  asked 
Ambrose  which  of  the  sacred  books  was  best  to  be 
studied  after  his  conversion,  the  answer  was  Isaiah.” 
The  greatest  musical  composition  of  modern  times,  em- 
bodying more  than  any  single  confession  of  faith  the  sen- 
timents of  the  whole  Christian  Church,  is  based  in  far  the 

1 Isa.  viii.  18.  See  Gesenlus,  i.  p.  8. 


504 


THE  AGE  OF  UZZIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVII 


larger  part  on  the  Prophecies  of  Isaiah.  The  wild  tribes 
of  New  Zealand  seized  his  magnificent  strains  as  if  be- 
longing to  their  own  national  songs,  and  chanted  them 
from  hill  to  hill,  with  all  the  delight  of  a newly  discov 
ered  treasure.^  And  as  in  his  age,  so  in  oiir  own,  he 
must  be  preeminently  regarded  as  the  bard  rapt  into 

future  times.”  ^ None  other  of  ancient  days  so  fully 
shared  with  the  modern  philosopher,  or  reformer,  or 
pastor,  the  sorrowful  yet  exalted  privilege  of  standing, 
as  we  say,  in  advance  of  his  age,”  before  his  time.” 
Through  his  prophetic  gaze  we  may  look  forward  across 
a dark  and  stormy  present  to  the  onward  destiny  of  our 
race,  which  must  also  be  the  hope  of  each  aspiring  soul, 
— when  the  eyes  of  them  that  see  shall  not  be  dim  — ; 
"when  the  ears  of  them  that  hear  shall  hearken — when 
“ the  vile  person  shall  no  more  be  called  liberal,  nor  the 
" churl  said  to  be  bountiful  — when  the  liberal  shall  de- 
"vise  liberal  things,  and  by  liberal  things  shall  he  stand 
" — when  Ephraim  shall  not  envy  Judah,  and  Judah 
"shall  not  vex  Ephraim — when  thine  eyes  shall  behold 
" the  King  in  his  beauty,  and  see  the  land  that  is  very 
" far  off.”  ^ 

1 So  I have  been  informed  by  Sir  2 Pope’s  Messiah. 

G.  Grey,  the  governor  of  New  Zea-  3 Isa.  xxxii.  3,  5,  8;  xi.  13;  xxxiiL 
and.  17. 


r^CTURE  XXXVIII 


HEZEKIAH. 

Wmi  the  death  of  Jotham,  a change  passed  over  the 
face  of  the  Jewish  monarchy.  The  hollow  religion 
which  had  called  forth  the  warnings  of  Isaiah,  during  the 
latest  years  of  Uzziah  and  during  the  reign  of  Jotham, 
was  unable  to  hold  its  ground  against  the  heathen  wor- 
ship, with  which  the  vices  of  the  Jewish  aristocracy 
naturally  allied  themselves.  The  increasing  power  and 
neighborhood  of  Assyria  brought  new  divinities  and  new 
forms  of  worship  into  view.  Of  this  supersti-  Ahaz, 
tion,  the  King  himself  was  the  centre.  He  ru-726. 
seems,  without  fanaticism,  to  have  had  a mania  for 
foreign  religious  practices.  Not  only  did  he  employ  to 
the  utmost  all  the  existing  sanctuaries,^  but  he  intro- 
duced new  ones  in  every  direction.  The  worship  of 
Molech,  the  savage  god  of  Ammon,  was  now  established 
not  only  on  the  heights  of  Olivet,  but  in  the  valley  of 
Ilinnorn,^  in  a spot  known  by  the  name  of  Tophet,^  close 
under  the  walls  of  Jerusalem.  There  the  brazen  statue 
of  the  god  was  erected,  with  the  furnace  ^ within  or  at 
its  feet,  into  which  the  children  were  thrown.  To  this 
dreadful  form  of  human  sacrifice  Ahaz  gave  the  highest 
sanction  by  the  devotion  of  one  or  more  of  his  sons.® 

1 2 Chr.  xxviii.  4 ; 2 Kings  xvi.  3.  comp.  Died.  Sic.  xx.  14  (Diet,  of 

2 2 Kings  xvi.  3.  Bible,  Molech). 

3 Isa.  XXX.  33  (Heb.).  5 2 Kings  xvi.  3;  2 Chr.  xxviii.  3 

4 Kimchi  on  2 Kings  xxiii.  10;  and 


506 


HEZEKIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVlli 


To  this  extreme  conclusion  had  the  sacrificial  system  of 
the  previous  reigns  been  carried,  and  it  was  this  which 
in  all  probability  provoked  from  Micah  the  Prophetic 
protest  in  a form  which,  though  couched  in  language 
drawn  from  the  ancient  history  of  the  people  (perhaps 
from  that  of  an  alien  and  heathen  nation),  almost  antic- 
ipates the  Christian  system.  Not  the  thousand  rams  at 
the  altar,  nor  the  torrents  of  sacred  oil,  not  even  the 
sacrifice  of  the  first-born  son,  could  so  propitiate  the 
Divine  favor  as  justice,  mercy,  and  faith.^  As  Tetzel 
called  forth  Luther,  so  it  may  almost  be  said  that  to  the 
extreme  superstition  of  Ahaz  we  are  indebted  for  one 
of  the  most  sublime  and  impassioned  declarations  of 
spiritual  religion  that  the  Old  Testament  contains. 

More  innocent  customs  or  superstitions  appeared  in 
every  part  of  the  country  and  city.  Golden  and  silver 
statues  glittered  throughout  Judea.  Soothsayers  came 
from  the  far  East ; wizards,  familiar  spirits,  ghosts,  were 
consulted,  even  by  the  most  outwardly  religious.^ 
Altars  were  planted  in  the  corners  of  the  streets.  In 
the  palace  was  raised  a flight  of  steps,  on  which  the 
sun’s  shadow  fell ; in  all  probability  suggested  by  some 
Babylonian  traveller.^  To  the  Temple  itself  the  same 
Oriental  influences  penetrated,  and  even  materially 
affected  the  structure  and  appearance  of  the  building 
On  its  roof  were  erected  little  altars,  apparently  for  the 
worship  of  the  heavenly  bodies  of  the  Zodiac.^  At  the 
entrance  of  its  court  were  kept  chariots  dedicated  to  the 
sun,  with  their  sacred  white  horses,  as  in  Persia  and 
Assyria,  ready  to  be  harnessed  on  great  occasions.^  The 

J Micah  vi.  6-9.  See  Lecture  ^ 2 Kings  xxiii.  5,  12;  translated 
Micah  vi.  6-9.  See  Lecture  “ planets  ” in  verse  5. 

Vin.  ^ 5 2 Kings  xxiii.  11;  Quint.  Curt 

3 Ibid,  xxxviii.  8.  Comp.  Herodot.  iii.  3 ; Herod,  i.  189.  See  Theniusi 
ii  109.  ad  loc. 


Lkct.  XXXVIII. 


AHAZ. 


507 


King’s  chief  work,  and  that  apparently  on  which  he 
most  prided  himself,  was  the  new  altar,  framed  after  the 
model  of  one  which  he  had  seen  at  Damascus.^  The 
High  Priest  Urijah,  the  friend  of  Isaiah,  lent  himself  to 
this  innovation.  The  venerable  altar  of  David,  which 
had  always  been  somewhat  out  of  keeping  with  the 
magnificence  of  the  Temple,  was  now  displaced,  and  re- 
mained apart  on  the  north  side  of  the  Temple  court, 
reserved  for  any  use  which  the  innovating  King  might 
think  fit  to  make  of  it.  To  the  new  altar  he  devoted 
all  his  reverence,  and,  with  all  the  royal  state  of  the 
ancient  sacrifices,  he  came  there  morning  and  evening  to 
present  in  his  own  person  the  accustomed  offerings.^ 
With  these  additions  to  the  grandeur  of  the  Temple 
worship,  were  combined  changes  of  a very  different 
kind.  Not  only  were  sacred  treasures  confiscated,  as 
often  before,  to  appease  the  invaders,  but  the  sacred 
furniture  and  vessels  themselves  despoiled.  The  bra- 
zen bulls,  which  stood  beneath  the  great  basin,  were 
taken  away,  and  the  basin  placed  on  a pedestal  of 
stone.  The  curious  brazen  engines  of  the  lesser  basins, 
as  well  as  the  canopy  of  brass  over  the  royal  stand,  and 
the  brazen  ornaments  of  the  royal  entrance,  were  re- 
moved,^ as  if  belonging  to  an  inferior  age.  Towards 
the  end  of  his  reign,  the  great  doors  of  the  Temple 
were  shut  up,  the  sacred  lamps  were  not  lighted,^  nor 
incense  offered  inside,  and  the  whole  interior  left  to 
decay  and  neglect.® 

It  was  not  without  strong  outward  pressure  that 

1 2 Kings  xvl.  10-16.  The  whole  still  celebrated  as  a fast  on  the  18th 
•)f  this  is  omitted  in  2 Chr.  xxvlii.  of  Ab  (end  of  July  or  beginning  of 

2 2 Kings  xvi.  15  (Heb.).  August). 

3 Ibid.  xvi.  17,  18.  5 2 Chr.  xxviii.  24 ; xxix.  3,  7,  16 

4 The  closing  of  the  Temple  gates  1 7. 
md  extinction  of  the  candlesticks  is 


508 


HEZEKIAII. 


Lect.  XXXVIll 


these  spoliations  were  made.  The  neighboring  nations 
had  taken  advantage  of  the  weak  character  of  the 
young  prince  to  assert  again  an  independence  which 
the  vigorous  rule  of  the  three  previous  kings  had  kept 
at  bay.  Now  took  place  that  formidable  union  of 
Syria  with  Israel  which  has  been  before  described. 
Far  down  to  the  Gulf  of  Akaba  the  shock  of  the 
invasion  was  felt.  Elath,  the  favorite  seaport  of 
Jehoshaphat  and  Uzziah,  was  recovered  from  Judah 
The  Syrian  made  over  to  the  adjacent  Edomites.^ 

war.  Jerusalem  itself  was  threatened ; a usurper  was 
to  be  established  on  the  throne  of  David.^  The  alarm 
was  extreme  in  the  royal  family  when  the  news  of 
the  hostile  alliance  came.  It  was  as  if  a hurricane 
had  passed  over  the  city,  and  every  heart  heaved  and 
rustled  in  the  wind  of  the  general  alarm.^  The  King 
and  the  nobles/  in  their  survey  of  the  weak  points 
in  the  fortifications  and  water-works  of  the  city/  had 
reached  a well-known  public  spot  just  outside  the  city 
walls/  when  Isaiah,  with  his  eldest  son,  suddenly  ap- 
peared before  them.  The  importance  of  the  crisis 
was  worthy  of  the  Prophet’s  decisive  messages.  In 
words,  and  by  signs,  now  difficult  to  decipher,  he  fore- 
told the  rapid  destruction  of  the  two  hostile  powers. 
There  was  to  be  a sudden  and  wonderful  birth  of  a 
child,  bearing  a Divine  name,  whose  childhood  should 
not  be  finished  before  the  deliverance"^  came.  The 
deliverance  was  to  appear  unexpectedly,  through  the 
coming  of  the  distant  Assyrians.®  There  was  inscribed 
in  large  letters,  in  the  public  square  of  the  city.  Rapid 

1 2 Kings  xvl.  6 (LXX.).  ® Isa.  vli.  3 ; xxxvi.  2 ; 2 Kings 

2 Isa.  vii.  6.  xviii.  1 7,  2G. 

3 Ibid.  vii.  2.  7 Isa,  vii.  14-16  (see  Ewald  and 

^ Ibid.  vii.  13.  Gesenius,  ad  loc.). 

5 Ibid.  vii.  3.  8 Ibid.  1 7-20. 


L5.CT.  XXXVIII. 


AHAZ. 


509 


spoiler,  speedy  prey,  ^Yhich  within  the  year  became  the 
name  of  another  child  of  the  Prophet.^  An  heir  was 
to  spring  up  to  the  throne  of  David,  combining  all  the 
noblest  qualities  of  God  and  man.^  It  is  the  same  amal- 
gamation of  the  highest  and  the  widest  hopes  with  con- 
temporary events,  which  is  familiar  to  us  through  the 
fourth  Eclogue  of  Virgil,  in  part,  possibly,  founded  on 
this  very  passage.  The  expectation  of  an  actual  child 
within  a short  time,  and  the  endeavor  to  concentrate 
on  that  child  the  far  loftier  aspirations  with  which, 
, .s  it  were,  the  air  was  full,  is  almost  the  same  in  the 
^ Hebrew  Prophet  and  the  Roman  poet.^  In  Isaiah’s 
case  the  immediate  prediction  was  fulfilled.  There 
was  a severe  battle,  in  which  three  of  the  chief  officers 
of  the  Court  were  killed,^  and  many  prisoners  taken ; 
but  it  was  the  last  of  such  attacks  from  the  neighbor 
states.  The  appearance  of  the  Assyrians  on  the  scene, 
and  the  readiness  of  Ahaz  to  purchase  their  alliance, 


1 Isa.  viii.  1-4. 

9 Ibid.  ix.  1-6. 

3 See  Merivale’s  History  of  the 
Romans  under  the  Empire^  iii.  231. 
“ Scribonia  was  about  to  give  a child 
to  Octavius,  Octavia  to  Antonius. 
PoUio  had  also  two  sons  born  nearly 
at  the  same  time.  . . . The  near  co- 
incidence of  all  these  distinguished 
births  is  connected  with  one  of  the 
most  intricate  questions  of  literary 
history.  In  his  fourth  Eclogue,  ad- 
dressed to  Follio,  Virgil  celebrates 
the  peace  of  Brundisium,  and  an- 
ticipates apparently  the  birth  of  a 
tvondrous  boy  who  shall  restore  the 
Saturnian  age  of  gold.  ...  We  are 
Impelled  to  inquire  to  whom  among 
the  most  Illustrious  offsprings  of  this 
auspicious  age  the  poet’s  glowing 


language  may  be  fitly  referred.  . . . 
After  all  their  claims  have  been 
weighed  and  dismissed,  we  are  still 
at  a loss  for  an  object  to  whom,  in 
the  mind  of  the  writer,  the  sublime 
vaticination  can  be  consistently  ap- 
plied.” This  might  be  said  almost 
word  for  word  of  the  difficulty  of 
adjusting  the  claims  of  the  children 
of  Isaiah’s  time  — whether  his  own 
sons  or  the  prince  Hezekiah  — with 
the  exalted  predictions  of  the  Divine 
Child  in  Isa.  vli.  14-20 ; ix.  6,  7. 
See  Ewald,  Proph.  213. 

4 2 Chr.  xxviii.  5-15.  For  a de- 
fence of  this  account,  and  a good 
statement  of  the  importance  of  the 
war,  see  Caspar!,  Ueher  den  Syrisch- 
Ephraimitische  Kneg^  p.  28-72. 


510 


HEZEKIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVIIII 


at  once  broke  the  power  of  Damascus,  and  in  the  next 
reign  destroyed  no  less  the  nearer  power  of  Israel. 

But  Judah  itself  would  have  been  subjected  to  its 
powerful  ally,  had  not  Ahaz  been  succeeded  by  a prince 
of  a very  different  character  from  himself 

The  reign  of  Hezekiah  is  the  culminating  point  of 
interest  in  the  history  of  the  Kings  of  Judah. 
Whether  or  not  the  contemporary  prophecies, 
foretelling  the  birth  of  a Divine  heir  to  the  throne, 
contained  any  reference  to  the  son  of  Ahaz,  then  a 
mere  child,  it  is  certain  that  .no  other  Prince  since 
the  death  of  David  could  so  well  have  answered  to 
them.  There  is  a strong  Jewish  tradition  that  he 
applied  to  himself,  not  only  the  predictions  of  Isaiah, 
but  the  20th  and  110th  Psalms.^  It  was  a saying  of 
Hillel  that  there  would  be  no  Messiah  for  Israel  in 
future  times,  because  He  had  already  appeared  in 
Hezekiah.  He  himself,  it  was  said,  with  the  expecta- 
tion of  immortality  thus  engendered,  took  no  care 
to  marry  or  secure  the  succession  till  startled  by  his 
alarming  iUness.  In  point  of  fact,  he  was  the  centre 
of  the  highest  Prophetic  influence  which  had  appeared 
since  Elijah.  Isaiah  was  his  constant  counsellor.  His 
maternal  grandfather  Zachariah^  may  have  been  not 
improbably  the  favorite  Prophet  of  Uzziah.  First  of 
the  royal  fimily  since  David,  he  was  himself  a poet.® 
He  gives  the  first  distinct  example  of  an  attempt  to 
collect  the  sacred  books  of  his  country.  By  his  orders 
a large  part^  of  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon,  — to  which 
Jewish  tradition^  adds  the  Prophecies  of  Isaiah,  the 

1 Cosmas  I ndicopleustes  (Co/Z.  Pai'r.  3 Jga.  xxxvlii.  9-20. 

ii,  301);  Justin.  Dial.  c.  Tryph. ; ^ Prov.  xxv.  1. 

Tertull.  adv.  Marc.  v.  9 ; Pearson,  ® See  the  statement  from  the  Tal 
On  the  Creed,  p.  112.  mud,  in  Gesenius,  Jesaicy  i.  p.  10. 

2 2 Kings  xvlil.  2. 


Uf;T.  XXXVIII. 


HIS  REIGN. 


511 


Book  of  Ecclesiastes,  and  the  Canticles  — were  written 
out  and  preserved.  The  Psalms  of  David/  and  of 
Asaph  the  seer,  the  musical  services  prescribed  by 
David  and  by  David’s  two  attendant  Prophets,  Gad 
and  Nathan,  were  revived  by  him.  The  services  of 
the  Temple,  and  the  instructions  established  by  Je- 
hoshaphat,^  were  restored.  The  same  antiquarian  turn, 
if  one  may  so  call  it,  showed  itself  in  the  continuance 
of  his  father’s  passion  for  collecting  costly  works  of 
art.  The  palace  at  Jerusalem  was  a storehouse  of 
gold,  silver,  and  jewels ; the  porch  of  the  palace  was 
once  more  hung  with  splendid  shields.^  Even  in  the 
changes  which  he  introduced  into  the  Temple,  he 
spared  all  the  astrological  altars  and  foreign  curiosities 
which  Ahaz  had  erected.  Both  in  the  capital  and  the 
country,  he  promoted  the  arts  of  peace  like  his  ances- 
tor Uzziah.  Towers  and  enclosures®  sprang  up  for  the 
vast  herds  and  flocks  of  the  pastoral  districts.  The 
vineyards,  olive-yards,  and  cornfields  were  again  cul- 
tivated. The  towers  and  fortifications®  of  Jerusalem, 
the  supply  of  water  to  the  town,  both  by  aqueduct 
from  without,  and  by  a reservoir  hewn  out  of  the  solid 
rock,  were  for  centuries  connected  with  his  name. 

Peace and  truth”  were  the  watchwords  of  his  reign. 
When  the  merits  of  the  Kings  were  summed  up  after 
the  fall  of  the  monarchy,  Hezekiah  was,  by  a deliberate 
judgment,  put  at  the  very  top.  There  was,  after 

him,  none  like  him  among  the  Kings  of  Judah,  nor 
^ any  that  was  before  him.”  “ 

1 2 Chr.  xxix.  25,  31.  ^2  Chr.  xxxii.  5 ; 2 Kings  xx.  20 

2 Ibid.  xxxi.  4 ; comp.  xvii.  9.  Ps.  xlviii.  13:  Ecclus.  xlviii.  17 

3 Ibid,  xxxii.  27  ; 2 Kings  xx.  13  ; compare  Ps.  Ixxxvii.  7 ; Isa.  xii.  3. 

Ps.  Ixxvi.  3.  7 2 Kings  xx.  19. 

4 2 Kings  xxiii.  12.  8 Jbid.  xviii.  5. 

5 2 Chr.  xxxii.  28,  29. 


512 


HEZEKIAH. 


lect.  xxxvin. 


In  descending  from  this  general  picture  to  the  details 
of  the  reign,  the  difficulty  of  any  consistent^  chrono- 
logical arrangement  of  the  events  is  almost  insuperable 
It  will  be  best  to  take  them  as  they  occur  in  the  sacred 
narrative,  open  to  such  corrections  as  the  various  dis* 
coveries  of  chronologers  may  impose.  \ 

1.  The  Conversion  ” of  Hezekiah,  as  in  modern  times  | 
Conversion  would  be  Called,  was  due  not  to  Isaiah,  but  j 

ofHezekiah.  ^ famous  coutemporary.  It  would  seem  i 

that  the  corrupt  state  of  morals  and  religion,  against 
which  the  Prophets  of  the  age  of  Uzziah  complained, 
continued  into  Hezekiah’s  reign.  Suddenly,  in  the 
midst  of  an  assembly,  in  which  the  King  himself  was 
present,  there  appeared  the  startling  apparition,  in  the 
simplicity  of  his  savage  nakedness,  of  the  Prophet 
Micah.^  With  the  sharp,  abrupt,  piercing  cry  peculiar 
to  his  manner,  he  commanded  each  class  to  hear  him. 
The  people  listened  with  awe  to  the  bitter  satire  with 
which  the  nobles  were  described  as  preparing  their 
cannibal  feast  out  of  the  flesh  and  bones  of  the  poor.^ 
They  heard  him  denounce  the  unholy  compact  then 
first  begun  between  the  mercenary  Priests  and  the 
traitor  Prophets.  They  were  startled  by  the  energy 
with  which  he  turned  fiercely  round  on  his  own  Pro- 
phetic order  for  selling  their  divinations  at  a price,  and 
their  blessing  or  their  threats  according  to  the  good 

1 The  natural  inference  from  2 might  coincide  with  the  repentance 
Kings  XX.  6 would  be,  that  the  illness  in  2 Chr.  xxxii.  26.  On  the  other 
and  the  embassy  from  Babylon  pre-  hand,  this  transposition  is  inconsist- 
ceded  the  invasion  of  Sennacherib,  ent  not  only  with  the  present  order 
which  is  required  also  by  the  alleged  of  the  chapters,  but  with  the  express 
dates  derived  from  the  Assyrian  in-  statements  of  2 Kings  xviii.  13;xx.  1; 
Bcriptions  (see  Mr.  Rawlinson’s  article  2 Chr.  xxxiii.  24  ; Isa.  xxxvi.  .1. 
on  Sennacheuiu,  in  the  Dictionar?/  2 J^r.  xxvi.  18,  19.  See  Dr.  Pusey 
of  the  Bible).  In  that  case  the  re-  on  Micah,  290. 
uentance  described  in  Jer.  xxvi.  19  3 Mical»  iii.  1-4. 


Lkct.  XXXVIII 


HIS  CONVERSION. 


613 


eating  witli  which  their  followers  supplied  them.  They 
heard  him  hail  as  a blessing  the  entire  extinction  of  the 
order ; when  its  sun  should  set,  when  the  sun  should  go 
down  over  the  Prophets,  and  the  day  should  be  night 
over  them.^  They  must  have  been  yet  more  amazed 
when  he  attacked  the  popular  use  even  of  the  doctrine 
of  his  great  contemporary,  Isaiah.  God  with  us,” 
"Immanu-El,”  the  pledge  of  the  invincibility  of  Zion, 
had  passed  into  an  exaggerated  and  unmeaning  dogma. 

They  lean  upon  Jehovah,  saying.  Is  not  Jehovah  in  the 
’ midst  of  us  ? ^ No  calamity  shall  come  upon  us.”  It 
was  to  contradict  this  in  the  most  direct  manner  that 
ho  drew  his  picture  of  the  crowded  fortress  of  Zion 
turned  into  a ploughed  field,  and  the  stately  palaces  of 
Jerusalem  sunk  into  a heap  of  ruins,  and  the  rocky  site 
of  the  Temple  once  more  like  a mountain  forest.^  There 
was  a pause  when  he  concluded.  It  would  seem  as  if 
for  a moment  an  indignamt  King  and  people  would  rise 
and  crush  the  audacious  seer.  But  Hezekiah  was  not  a 
mere  tool  in  the  hands  of  nobles,  or  priests,  or  prophets. 
Micah  was  left  unscathed,  and  the  dark  prediction  was 
never  fulfilled.  ^^The  Lord  repented  Him  of  the  evil 

which  He  had  pronounced  against  them.”  And  even 
in  the  Prophet’s  own  lifetime  — it  may  be  almost  im- 
mediately after  his  warning  — succeeded  the  promise  of 
a prosperity  before  unknown  ; when  the  nation  should  ^ 
in  peace  be  like  the  gentle  dew,  in  war  like  the  lion  in 
forest  and  fold,  or  like  a fierce  bull  treading  down  his 

1 Micah  lii.  5-7.  land ; but  the  rest  has  always  been 

2 Ibid.  iii.  11,  12.  within  the  walls.  In  the  MaccabaBan 

3 Jer.  xxvi.  18,  19.  The  destruc-  wars  (1  Macc.  iv.  38)  the  Temple 
tion  which  was  then  threatened  has  courts  were  overgrown  with  shrubs, 
never  been  completely  fulfilled.  Part  but  this  has  never  been  the  case 
of  the  southeast  portion  of  the  city  since. 

has  for  several  centuries  been  arable  4 Micah  iv.  13  ; v.  7,  8, 

33 


VOL.  II. 


HEZEKIAH. 


Lect.  xxxvm 


f)  14 

enemies  on  tlie  threshing-floor,  with  horns  of  iron  ami 
hoofs  of  l)rass. 

Tlie  wild  dirge  of  Micah  had  been  aimed  against  the 
moral  evils  of  the  nation.  The  neglect  of  the  Temple, 
the  total  abeyance  of  the  Mosaic  ritual,  were  as  nothing 
in  his  eyes.  On  the  other  hand,  of  any  moral  reforma- 
tion the  Chronicler  tells  us  nothing.  But  the  outward 
reformation  which  he  describes  was  doubtless  the  ex- 
pression of  an  inward  change  also. 

The  great  doors  of  the  Temple  so  long  closed  were 
opened.  The  King  himself  took  the  command.  The 
Pi'iests  hung  back  from  the  revolution  which  swept 
away  the  neglect  which  the  head  of  their  order,  Urijah, 
must  in  some  measure  have  countenanced.  But  the 
Levites,  more  closely  connected  with  the  general  educa- 
tion of  the  people,  lent  themselves  heartily  to  the  work. 
Both  joined  in  the  ceremonial  of  a vast  sacrifice  offered  ^ 
by  the  King  and  Princes’  in  expiation  of  the  national  * 
guilt.  The  people  went  along  with  the  change,  sudden 
as  it  was. 

Immediately  on  this  followed  the  revival  of  the  Pass- 
Ti,e  Pass-  over,  of  which  no  celebration  had  been  recorded 

0V6T  • 7 • 

since  the  time  of  Joshua.  Like  the  Feast  of 
Tabernacles,  at  the  dedication  of  Solomon’s  Temple, 
it  was  commemorated  by  the  addition  of  a second  week 
of  rejoicing."  Not  only  the  whole  population  of  the 
southern  kingdom  attended  it,  but,  although  reluc- 
tantly,® some  even  of  the  northern,  especially  of  the  most 
northern,  parts.^  It  was  characteristic  of  the  true  spirit 
of  the  religion  of  David,  that,  when  these  unusual  guests 
arrived,  without  the  prescribed  ablution, s,  the  King  over 

• 2 Chr.  xxix.  27,  29,  30.  The  2 2 Chr.  xxx.  23. 

whole  of  tins  i-estoration  is  omitted  3 Joseph.  .4n(.  ix.  13,  § 2. 

in  the  Books  o!  KinjTs.  4 2 Chr.  xxx.  11. 


Leoi.  XXXVIII. 


HIS  REFORMATION. 


5ili 


looked  it  in  consideration  of  their  pure  intentions 
“ The  good  Lord  pardon  every  one  that  prepareth  his 
“ heart  to  seek  God,  the  Lord  God  of  his  fathers,  though 
“ he  be  not  cleansed  according  to  the  purification  of  the 
“ sanctuary.”  * 

From  this  restoration  of  the  worship  of  Jehovah, 
Hezekiah  proceeded  to  the  removal  of  supersti- 
tions  which  had  existed  from  the  earliest  times. 

Beside  the  Temple  worship  in  Jerusalem,  had 
descended  what  may  be  called  the  rural  worship  of  the 
“ high  places,”  * — at  Bethel,®  at  Beersheba,^  at  Moriah,' 
on  the  mountains  of  Gilead,®  at  Ophrah,  on  the  hills  of 
Dan,  at  Mizpeh  and  Ramah,  on  the  top  of  Olivet,^  on 
Mount  Carmel,®  at  Gibeon.®  They  had  been  sanctioned 
by  the  Patriarchs,  by  Samuel,  by  David,  by  Solomon,  by 
Elijah,  by  Asa  and  Jehoshaphat,  by  Joash  and  the  High 
Priest  Jehoiada,  by  the  four  first  books  of  the  Pentateuch, 
if  not  expressly,  at  least  by  implication.“  The  “ high 
place,”  properly  so  called,  though  doubtless  originally 
deriving  its  name  from  the  eminence  on  which  it  stood, 
was  a pillar  of  stone,"  covered,  like  Mussulman  tombs, 
or  like  the  sacred  house  of  the  Kaaba,  with  rich  carpets, 
robes,  and  shawls.“  An  altar  stood  in  front,  on  which, 
mi  ordinary  occasions,  oil,  honey,  flour,  and  incense  were 
ofiered,'®  and,  on  solemn  occasions,  slain  animals,  as  in 
the  Temple."  Round  about  usually  stood  a sacred 


1 2 Chr.  XXX.  18,  19. 

2 1 Kings  iii.  2 ; Ezek.  xx.  29. 

3 2 Kings  xxiii.  15. 

4 Amos  viii.  14. 

5 2 Sam.  xxiv.  8. 

6 Hos.  xii.  11;  v.  1 ; vi.  8. 

7 2 Kings  xxiii.  13. 

^ 1 Kings  xviii.  30. 

^ Ibid.  iii.  4. 

Gen.  xii.  7,  8;  xxi.  13;  xxii.  2, 


4;  xxxi.  54;  Judg.  vi.  25;  xiii.  16; 
1 Sam.  vii.  10;  ix.  12-19;  2 Sam. 
XV.  32. 

11  Dent.  vii.  5 (Heb.);  xii.  3;  xvi, 
22  (Heb.)  ; Num.  xxxiii.  52  ; 2 King! 
xxiii.  15. 

12  Ezek.  xvi.  16. 

13  Ibid.  xvi.  18. 

14  1 Kings  iii.  4. 


516 


HEZEKIAH. 


lect.  XXX  vrn. 


hedge  or  grove  of  trees.'  Such  a grove,  as  we  have 
Been,  was  allowed  to  stand  even  within  the  Temple  pre- 
cincts. There  was  a charm  in  the  leafy  shade  ^ of  the 
oak,  the  poplar,  and  the  terebinth,  peculiarly  attractive  ® 
Brazl'sCT-  Israelite  and  Phoenician  devotion.  With 

these  was  joined,  within  the  walls  of  Jerusalem 
Itself,  the  time-honored  worship  of  the  Brazen  Serpent. 
It  had  been  brought  from  Gibeon  with  the  tabernacle, 
and  before  it,  from  early  times,  incense  was  offered  up’  ! 

as  it  would  seem,  by  the  northern  * as  well  as  the  south- 
ern  kingdom.  • ' 

Innocent  as  these  vestiges  of  ancient  religion  might  ' 
seem  to  be,  they  were  yet,  like  the  Golden  Calves  in  the  i!| 
northern  kingdom,  and  on  exactly  similar  grounds,  in- 
consistent  with  the  strict  unity  and  purity  of  the  Mosaic 
worship,  and  had  an  equal  tendency  to  'blend  with  the  ' 
dark  polytheism  of  the  neighboring  nations.  It  was  ( 
reserved  for  Hezekiah  to  make  the  first  onslaught  upon 
them.  He  was,  so  to  sjieak,  the  first  Eeformer;  the 
first  of  the  Jewish  Church  to  protest  against  institutions 
which  had  outlived  their  usefulness,  and  which  the 
nation  had  outgrown.  The  uprooting  of  those  delight- 
ful shades,  the  levelling  of  those  consecrated  altars,  the  j 
destruction  of  that  mysterious  figure  “ which  Moses  had 
“made  in  the  wilderness,”  must  have  been  a severe  1 
shock  to  the  religious  feelings  of  the  nation.  There  was 
a wide-spread  belief,  which  penetrated  even  to  the  adja-  ! 
cent  countries,  that  the  worship  of  Jehovah  Himself  had 
been  abandoned,  and  that  His  support  could  no  more 


^ » 2 Kings  xxiii.  15;  Judg.  vi.  26. 
See  Ewald,  iii.  380;  Justin,  Apol. 
c.  9. 

^ Tliis  is  the  force  of  the  word 
“grove.”  See  Deut.  xii. 


2 ; 1 Kings  xiv.  23 ; 2 Kings  xvi.  4 , 
Isa.  Ivii.  5. 

^ Hos.  iv.  13;  Isa.  i.  29;  Jer. 
xvii.  2. 

'2  Kings  xviii.  4,  — “ The  chit- 
dren  of  Israel  burnt  ir*cense  to  it.” 


Leci.  XXXVm.  INVASION  OF  SENNACHERIB. 


517 


be  expected.^  The  Sacred  Serpent,  the  symbol  of  the 
Divine  Presence,  had  been  treated  contemptuously  as  9 
mere  serpent,  a mere  piece  of  brass,^  and  nothing  more 
The  altars  where  Patriarchs  and  Kings  had  worshipped 
without  rebuke  had  been  overthrown,  and  the  devotion 
of  the  nation  restrained  to  a single  spot.  Was  it  possi- 
ble that  the  faith  of  the  people  could  survive,  when  its 
most  cherished  relics  were  so  rudely  handled,  when  so 
little  was  left  to  sustain  it  for  the  future  ? So  has  the 
popular  conservative  instinct  of  every  age  been  terrified 
at  every  reformation,  and  maintained,  with  the  alarmists 
of  the  time  of  Hezekiah,  that,  as  one  destructive  step 
leads  to  another,  we  must  have  all  or  nothing.  Hezekiah 
has  been  often  quoted,  and  quoted  justly,  as  an  example 
that  reform  is  not  revolution,  that  Religion  does  not  lose 
but  gain  by  parting  with  needless  incumbrances,  however 
hallowed  by  long  traditions  or  venerable  associations. 

But  whatever  murmurs  there  may  have  been,  they 
were  checked  by  the  approach  of  a great  calamity,  the 
deliverance  from  which  was  the  best  proof  that  God  had 
not  deserted  His  people,  because  He  was  worshipped 
with  more  truth  and  more  simplicity. 

The  rise  of  the  Assyrian  power  has  been  already  de- 
scribed. A new  king  was  on  the  throne  of  genna- 
Nineveh,  whose  name  is  the  first  that  can  be 
clearly  identified  in  the  Hebrew,  Assyrian,  and  Grecian 
annals,  — Sennacherib  (Sin-akki-irib).  His  grandeur  is 
attested  not  merely  by  the  details  of  the  cuneiform  in- 
scriptions, but  by  the  splendor  of  the  palace,  which, 
with  it3  magnificent  entrances  and  chambers,  occupies  a 
quarter  of  Nineveh,^  and  by  the  allusions  to  his  con- 

I* 

1 2 Kings  xviii.  22  ; 2 Chr.  xxxii.  12.  3 Kojunjik.  See  a summary  of 

i Hachash  = serpent]  Neckusht  — his  life  as  derived  from  the  iuscrlp- 
brass  or  brazen.  tions,  in  Layard,  Nineveh  and  Baby- 


6l» 


HEZEKIAU. 


Lect.  XXX  VUI 


quests  in  all  the  fragments  of  ancient  history  that  con- 
tain  any  memorial  of  those  times.  With  a pride  of 
style,  peculiar  to  himself,  he  claims  the  titles  of  the 
great,  the  powerful  King,  the  King  of  the  Assyrians, 
^^of  the  nations,  of  the  four  regions,  the  diligent  ruler, 
''  the  favorite  of  the  great  gods,  the  observer  of  sworn 
''  faith,  the  guardian  of  law,  the  establisher  of  monu- 
"ments,  the  noble  hero,  the  strong  warrior,  the  first  of 
^^dngs,  the  punisher  of  unbelievers,  the  destroyer  of 
wicked  men.”  ^ 

Such  was  the  King  who  for  many  years  filled  the 
horizon  of  the  Jewish  world.  He  entered  from  the 
north.  Ilis  chariots  were  seen  winding  through  the 
difficult  passes  of  Lebanon.  He  climbed  to  the  lofty 
heights,”  to  the  highest  caravanserai^  of  those  vener- 
able mountains.  He  passed  along  the  banks  of  the 
streams  which  he  drained  by  his  armies,  or  over 
which  he  threw  bridges  for  them  to  cross.^  It  was 
his  boast  that  he  had  penetrated  even  to  the  very 
sanctuary  of  Lebanon,  where,  on  its  extreme  border, 
was  the  mysterious  ^^park”  or  garden”  of  the  sacred 
cedars.  He  was  renowned  far  and  wide  as  their  great 
destroyer.^  Inscriptions  in  his  Assyrian  palace  record 
with  pride  that  the  wood  with  which  it  was  adorned 
came  from  Lebanon.  He  was  himself  regarded  as  the 
Cedar  of  cedars.  They  shrieked  aloud  — so  it  seemed 

to  the  ear  of  the  wakeful  Prophets  of  the  time as 

they  felt  the  fire  at  their  roots,  and  saw  the  fall  of 
their  comrades.  They  raised  a shout  of  joy  when  f,he 


on,  138-147 ; and  in  Rawlinson’s 
Ancient  Monarchies,  ii.  428-466. 

1 Rawlinson,  ii.  456. 

^ 2 “ The  lodf/e  of  its  end,”  2 Kings 
six.  23.  Coni[)are  the  same  word 


(meaning  “ to  stay  the  night  ”),  Isa. 
X.  29. 

3 Isa.  xxxvil.  24,  25  (LXX.). 

^ Layard’s  Nineveh  and  Babylon^ 

p.  118. 

^ Isa.  X.  33,  34. 


Lect.  XXXVIII.  INVASION  OF  SENNACHEKIB. 


519 


tidings  reached  them  that  he  was  fallen.^  He  de- 
scended by  the  romantic  gorge  of  the  river  of  the 
Wolf^  His  figure  is  still  to  be  seen  there  carved  on 
the  rock,  side  by  side  with  the  memorials  of  the  two 
greatest  empires  of  the  world  before  and  after  him, — 
the  Egyptian  Eameses  who  had  preceded  him  by  a 
thousand  years,  and  the  Emperor  Antoninus  who  by 
a thousand  years  succeeded  him.  From  Arvad  or 
Sidon  he  must  have  embarked  for  Cilicia,  with  a view 
to  occupy  the  Phoenician  island  of  Cyprus  j and  there 
took  place  the  first  encounter  between  the  Greeks 
and  the  Asiatics.  There,  also.  Tarsus  is  said  to  have 
been  founded,  and,  by  a curious  association,  the  city 
of  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  derived  its  origin^  from 
the  sagacious  selection  of  the  Assyrian  conqueror. 

The  main  object  of  Sennacherib  was  not  Palestine, 
but  Egypt,  the  only  rival  worthy  of  his  arms.  To 
have  dried  ^ up  the  canals  of  the  Nile  was  the  climax 
of  his  ambition.  It  was  as  the  outposts  of  Egypt  that 
the  fortresses  of  southern  Palestine  stood  in  the  way 
of  his  great  designs.  Already  Sargon,^  his  predecessor, 
had  sent  his  general®  against  the  strong  Philistine  city 
of  Ashdod,  then  governed  by  an  independent  King.’ 
There  was  an  army  of  Ethiopian  and  Egyptian  auxili- 
aries to  defend  it.  But  the  city  was  taken,  its  de- 
fenders were  carried  of,  stripped  of  their  clothing  and 
barefoot,®  and  their  King  fled  to  Egypt.  Sennacherib 
now  followed  his  father’s  example.  His  immediate 

1 Zech.  xi.  1,  2.  nacherib  was  now  on  his  return  from 

2 See  Sinai  and  Palestine,  chap.  Egypt. 

xii.  5 Founder  of  Khorsabad,  which 

3 Strabo,  xiv.  4,  8 ; Arrian,  ii.  5.  bore  his  name. 

4 2 Kings  xix.  24  (Heb.),  It  is  ® Isaiah  xx.  1.  Tbr^an  = general, 

on  this  chiefly  that  Ewald  (iii.  631,  7 Rawlinson,  Five  Mon.  ii.  412, 

note)  bases  the  supposition  that  Sen-  431. 

8 Isa.  XX.  4. 


520 


HEZEKIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVIII. 


object  was  Lachisli/  as  Sargon’s  had  been  Ashdod. 
But  it  would  have  been  useless  to  occupy  any  Philistine 
city,  whilst  the  strong  fortress  of  Jerusalem  remainea 
in  the  rear. 

It  is  this  which  brings  him  and  his  army  within  the 
view  of  the  Sacred  History.  All  intervening  obstacles, 
north,  and  east,  and  west,  had  been  swept  away 
Monarchies  had  perished,  of  ancient  renown,  but 
whose^  names  alone  have  survived  this  devastation ; 
the  king  of  Hamath  and  the  king  of  Arphad,  the 
king  of  the  city  of  Sepharvaim,  Hena,^  and  Ivah. 
Calno  had  become®  as  Carchemish,  and  Hamath  as 
Arphad ; there  was  not  one  of  them  left  to  tell  their 
story.  Damascus^  was  a heap  of  ruins.  The  fortress’ 
of  Ephraim  had  ceased.  Tyre  had  been  attacked,® 
and  greatly  weakened.  The  desolations  of  Moab  had 
roused  once  more  the  Prophetic  dirge.  The  wild  Arabs 
of  Dumah  asked  fearfully  of  the  night  of  the  future 
The  caravans  of  the  Dedanites  fled  from  the  sword 
and  bow  of  the  conqueror.  The  glory  of  Kedar’ 
failed  before  him.  Even  in  western  nations  Sen- 
nacherib was  known  as  King®  of  the  Arabs.  Philistia, 
which  had  for  a moment  rejoiced  in  her  rival’s  danger 
shrieked®  in  terror  as  she  saw  the  column  of  smoke 

advancing  from  the  north,  and  sought  for  help  from 
her  ancient  foe. 


1 Lachish  was  evidently  at  this 
time  one  of  the  strongest  fortresses 
of  Judah.  There  Amaziah  had  taken 
refuge  (2  Kings  xiv.  19).  It  had 
been  fortified  by  Kehoboam  (2  Chr. 
XI.  9).  Nebuchadnezzar  attacked  it 
(Jer.  xxxiv.  7). 

2 2 Kings  xviii.  34.  Except  Ha- 
math and  Carchemish  all  these  towns 


are  uncertain  ; most  of  them  seem  to 
have  been  on  the  Euphrates. 

3  Isa.  X.  9. 

^ Ibid.  xvii.  1 ; x.  9. 

5 Ibid.  X.  9. 

® Ibid.  xxi.  11. 

’ Ibid.  13-16. 

® Herod,  ii.  141.  See  Ewald, 

Proph.  i.  235. 

® isa.  xiv.  31  (Heb.). 


Lkot.  XXXVIII.  INVASION  OF  SENNACHERIB. 


621 


Each  stage  of  the  march  ^ of  the  army  into  Judea 
was  foreseen.  He  was  first  expected  at  Aiath.  There 
was  the  renowned  defile  of  Michmash,  • — the  Rubicon, 
as  it  seemed,  of  the  sacred  territory,  — the  precipitous 
pass,  on  the  edge  of  which  he  would  pause  for  a 
moment  with  his  vast  array  of  military  baggage. 
They  would  pass  over,  and  spend  their  first  night  at 
Geba.  The  next  morning  would  dawn  upon  a terror- 
stricken  neighborhood.  Each  one  of  those  Benjamite 
fortresses,  on  the  top  of  its  crested  hill,  or  down  in  its 
deep  ravine,  seems  ready  to  leave  its  rooted  base  and 
[ fly  away,  — Ramah,  Gibeah,  Michmash,  Geba,  — and 
the  cries  of  Gallim  and  Laish  are  reverberated  by  Ana- 
' thoth,  the  village  of  echoes.  It  is  a short  march  to 
j Jerusalem,  and  the  evening  will  find  him  at  Nob,  the 
old  sanctuary  on  the  northern  corner  of  Olivet,  within 
sight  of  the  Holy  City.  ^^He  shall  shake  his  hand 
against  the  mount  of  the  daughter  of  Zion,  the  hill 
^‘of  Jerusalem.” 

It  was  as  if  the  great  rivers  of  Mesopotamia  — the 
sealike  rivers,  as  they  seemed  to  the  Israelites  — had 
burst  their  bonds,  and  were  sweeping  away  nation 
after  nation,  in  their  irresistible  advance.  From  a 
I distance  the  sound  of  their  approach  had  been  as  the 
I roaring  of  wild  beasts,  as  the  roaring  of  the  sea.* 
The  multitudes  of  many  people,  a rushing  of  nations, 
‘Hike  the  rushing  of  mighty  waters.”^  And  now  these 
waves  upon  waves  had  passed  over  into  Judah,  and 
overflowed  “ and  gone  over,”  and  seemed  to  “ have 
j “filled  the  sacred  land,”^  to  be  dashing  against  the  very 

II  Isa.  X.  28-32.  That  this  march  the  account  of  his  approach  by 
of  Sennacherib  was  not  actual,  but  Lachish. 

I (as  Dr.  Pusey  well  remarks  on  Mi-  2 Isa.  v.  30. 

CAH  p.  293)  “ideal,”  appears  from  3 Ibid.  xvii.  12. 

4 Ibid.  viii.  7,  8. 


522 


HEZEKIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVIU. 


rock  of  Zion  itself.  Out  of  those  mighty  waters  the 
little  kingdom  alone  stood  uncovered.  Nothina*  else 
was  in  sight.  The  fenced  cities  of  Judah  were  taken 
— Zion  alone  remained.  The  desolation  was  as  if  thJ 
country  had  been  held  up  like  a bowl,  and  its  inhabii 
tants  shaken  out  of  it.  It  was  even  regarded  as  the( 
first  act  of  the  captivity  of  Judah.^ 

Up  to  this  point  Hezekiah  had  been  firm  in  main-y 
ofS-*'"  Gaining  the  independence  of  his  country.^ 
kiah.  But  now  even  he  gave  way.  The  show  of|j! 
resistance  which  he  had  assumed  on  the  death  of  Sar-f 
gon  he  could  silstain  no  longer.  He  paid  the  tribute  i 
lequired.  The  gold  with  which  he  had  covered  the 
cedar  gates  and  the  brazen  pillars  of  the  Temple,  he  ? 
stripped  /ff  to  propitiate  the  invader.  Peace  was  con^^^  < 
eluded.  Both  at  Nineveh  and  Jerusalem  we  are  ableh 
to  read  the  effects.  At  Nineveh,  if  we  may  trust  the)^ 

inscriptions,  Sennacherib  spoke  as  follows:^ And 

because  Hezekiah,  King  of  Judah,  would  not  submit 
"to  my  yoke,  I came  up  against  him,  and  by  force  of 
"arms,  and  by  the  might  of  my  power,  I took  forty-  i 
" six  of  his  strong  fenced  cities,  and  of  smaller  towns 
" which  were  scattered  about,  I took  and  plundered  a 
" countless  number.  And  from  those,  places  T captured 
"and  carried  off  as  spoil  200,150  people,  old  and 
"young,  male  and  female  together,  with  horses  and 
males,  asses  and  camels,  oxen  and  sheep,  a countless 
" multitude.  And  Hezekiah  himself  I shut  up  in  Jeru- 
" Salem,  his  capital  city,  like  a bird  in  a cage,  building 
"towers  round  the  city  to  hem  him  in,  and  raising 

1 Isa.  XXIV.  1-12.  Demetrius,  in  King  of  Ekron,  delivered  to  him  by 

Clemens  Alex.  Strom,  i.  403.  Raw-  the  rebels  of  that  city.  Ra^vlinson^ 
linson’s  Ancient  Monarchies,  ii.  435.  Anc.  Mon.  ii.  432.  , 

2 According  to  the  Assyrian  in-  3 From  Rawlinson,  ii.  435. 
icriptions  lie  had  taken  charge  of  the 


?CT.  XXXVllI.  INVASION  OF  SENNACHERIB. 


523 


banks  of  earth  against  the  gates  to  prevent  hi* 
escape.  . . . Then  upon  this  Hezekiah  there  fell  the 
fear  of  the  power  of  my  arms,  and  he  sent  out  to 
me  the  chiefs  and  the  elders  of  Jerusalem,  with 
thirty  talents'  of  gold,  and  eight  hundred  talents  of 
silver,  and  divers  treasures,  and  rich  and  immense 
booty.  ...  All  these  things  were  brought  to  me  at 
Nineveh,  the  seat  of  my  government,  Hezekiah  hav- 
ing sent  them  by  way  of  tribute,  and  as  a token  of 
his  submission  to  my  power.” 

In  Jerusalem  there  was  a strange  reaction  of  policy, 
fhe  invading  army  passed  in  long  defile  under  the 
vails  of  the  city.  It  was  composed  chiefly  of  two 
luxiliary  forces  — one,  the  Syrians  of  Damascus,  dis- 
•inguished  as  of  old  by  their  shields;^  the  other  — a 
name  here  first  mentioned  in  the  Sacred  History 
Elam  or  Persia,  with  the  archers  for  which  it  was 
famous  throughout  the  ancient  world.®  The  chariots 
and  horses,  in  which  both  Syria  and  Assyria  excelled, 
filled  the  ravines  underneath  the  walls.  The  horsemen 
rode  up  to  the  gates.  Their  scarlet  dresses  and  scarlet 
shields'  blazed  in  the  sun.  The  veil  of  the  city  was, 
as  it  were,  torn  away.  The  glorious  front  of  Solomon  s 
cedar  palace  and  .the  rents  in  the  walls  of  Zion  were 
seen  by  the  foreigners.® 

But,  instead  of  regarding  this  as  a day  of  humihar 
tion,  “ a day  of  trouble  and  treading  down  and  per- 
“plexity,”®  the  whole  city  was  astir  with  joy  at  this 

1 The  sum  of  gold  mentioned,  30  =*  Comp.  Isa.  xiii.  17,  18  ; Jer.  xlix. 

talents,  is  the  same  in  2 Kings  xviii.  35. 

14 ; the  sum  of  silver,  800  talents,  is  ^ Isa.  ix.  5 (Ewald,  Propheten^ 
In  Kings,  300.  226)  ; Nahum  ii.  3,  and  so  in  the 

2 Isa.  xxii.  6 *,  compare  Amos  i.  5 ; sculptures. 


524 


HEZEKIAH. 


Leci  XXX  VII 


deliverance  through  their  unworthy  submission.  Th 
people  crowded  to  the  flat  tops  of  the  houses,  in  idl 
curiosity,  to  see  the  troops  pass  by  ; ^ instead  of  weep 
ing  and  mourning,  and  cutting  off  the  hair  and  sack  1 1 
cloth,”  there  was  joy  and  gladness,  slaying  of  oxer 
and  killing  of  sheep,  eating  flesh  and  drinking  wine  || 
AVhatever  evil  might  be  in  store,  they  were  satisfiec 
to  live  for  the  day.  “Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to- 
“ morrow  we  die.”^  Isaiah  was  there,  and  looked  on  j 
with  unutterable  grief  “Look  away  from  me,  I wi 
“weep  bitterly.  Labor  not  to  comfort  me.”  In  the: 
midst  of  the  revelry,  an  awful  voice  sounded  in  his  ears.T  ^ 
“ that  this  was  an  iniquity  which  could  never  be  for-'  | 
“given  on  this  side  the  grave.” ^ 

Amongst  the  advisers  of  the  King  in  this  act  ofu-^ 
submission,  there  was  one  who  attained  a fata  | 
shebna.  eminence.  It  was  Shebna,  the  chief  minister,'  ^ 
who  was  over  the  household,  and  bore  the  key  of 
state.  His  chariots  were  of  royal  state.  The  tomb 
which  he  had  prepared  for  himself  in  the  rocky  sides 
of  Jerusalem  was  conspicuous  in  height  and  depth.® 
On  him  the  Prophet  poured  forth  a malediction  which, 
for  its  personal  severity,  stands  alone  in  his  writings  ; 
the  only  expression  in  his  writings  that  in  any  way 
recalls  the  fierce  imprecations  of  the  Psalter.  He  was 
to  be  driven  from  his  station,  and  pulled  down  from 
his  state.®  “ Behold  the  Lord  shall  sling  and  sling,  and 
“ pack  and  pack,  and  toss  and  toss  thee  away  like  a 
“ ball,  into  a distant  land,  and  there  shalt  thou  die.”  ^ 

How  far  this  took  effect  ultimately  we  know  not 


1 Isa.  xxii.  1,  2. 

* Ibid.  xxii.  1.3. 

3 Ibid.  xxii.  4,  14. 

< See  Sir  E.  Strachey’ 


Hebrew 


Politics,  cb.  xvi.,  and  F.  Newnian'a 
Hebrew  Monarchy,  p.  296. 

3 Isa.  xxii.  16,  18. 

•6  Ibid.  xxii.  19. 

^ Ibid.  xxii.  17,  18  (Heb.). 


I Lect.  XXXVIII.  INVASION  OF  SENNACHERIB.  526 

i But  its  partial  results  are  soon  visible.  Shebna’s  next 
\ appearance  is  in  the  inferior  office  of  secretary,  and 
j in  his  place  we  find  Eliakim.  He  was  to  assume  the 
insignia  of  the  key  of  state,  the  mantle,  and  the  girdle. 
He  was  now  advanced  in  years,  and  thus  his  family 
were  numerous  enough  to  add  to  his  power,  as  well 
as  to  share  in  it.  He  was  to  be  like  a huge  nail  or 
house-peg  driven  into  the  palace,  of  which  he  was  the 
chief  minister,  and  all  his  sons  and  grandsons,  great 
and  small,  like  cups,  of  all  shapes  and  sizes,  were  to 
hang  and  cluster  round  him.^ 

Whether  irom  the  fall  of  Shebna,  or  the  warnings 
of  Isaiah,  as  soon  as  the  immediate  danger  Resistance 
was  removed,  Hezekiah  took  courage,  and  kiah. 
again  raised  the  standard  of  independence.  An  em- 
. bassy  had  arrived  from  the  powerful  Egyptian  king, 
Tirhakah,  in  his  distant  land  of  Ethiopia,  with  promises 
of  assistance.^  The  Philistines  who  occupied  the  fron- 
tier between  Judah  and  Egypt,  had  been  subdued  by 
Hezekiah,  apparently  with  a view  to  this  very  alliance.^ 
On  the  hope  of  gaining  the  chariots^  and  horses, 
which  constituted  the  main  forces  of  Egypt,  the  King 
and  the  people  buoyed  themselves  up.  All  across  the 
perilous  desert  gifts  were  sent  on  troops  of  asses  and 
camels  to  propitiate^  the  great  ally. 

But  it  was  an  alliance  fraught  with  danger  to  the 
Jewish  commonwealth.  The  policy  of  the  Egyptian 
Kings  would  have  been  to  use  the  warlike  little  state 
as  an  outpost  to  sustain  the  first  shock  of  the  enemy 

1 Isa.  xxii.  24.  Comp.  Lecture  p.  61,  xv.  p.  687.  Kenrick's  Egypt^ 

XXXV.  371. 

2 Isa.  xviii.  1,  2;  2 Kings  xix.  9.  3 2 Kings  xviii.  8. 

His  name  appears  in  Manetho,  on  * Isa.  xxxi.  1. 

the  Monuments,  and  in  Strabo,  x.  5 ibid.  xxx.  6. 


626 


HEZEKIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVTH 


before  he  entered  the  Delta.  Their  strength^  was  t( 
sit  still  ” and  sacrifice  their  weaker  neighbor.  Th( 
tall  reed  of  the  Nile-bnlrush  would  only  pierce  th( 
hand  of  him  that  leaned  upon  it.^  Isaiah  began  th( 
course  of  protests  against  the  alliance,  which  was 
taken  up  by  all  the  subsequent  Prophets.®  Hezekial/ 
responded  to  the  call.  By  a sustained  effort  — which 
gave  him  a peculiar  renown^  as  a second  Founder  or 
Restorer  of  the  city  of  David  — he  stopped  the  two 
springs  of  Siloam,  and  diverted  the  waters  of  the| 
Kedron,  which,  unlike  its  .present  dry  state,  and  un- 
usually even  for  that  time,  had  been  flooding®  its, 
banks ; and  in  this  way  the  besiegers,  as  he  hoped, 
would  be  cut  off  from  all  water  on  the  barren  hilk 
around.  He  also  fortified  the  walls,  and  rebuilt  the' 
towers,  which  had  probably  not  been  repaired  on  the 
north  side,  since  the  assault  of  Joash  king  of  Israel,® 
and  completed  the  armory  and  outworks  of  the  castle 
or  fortress  of  Millo."^  He  assembled  the  people  in  the 
great  square  or  open  place  before  the  city  gate,  and 
there,  with  his  officers,  nobles,  and  guards,®  addressed 
the  people,  in  a spirit  which,  combined  with  his  active 
preparations,  reminds  us  of  the  like  combination  in 
the  well-known  speech  of  Cromwell.  ^^And  the  peo* 
‘^ple  rested  on  the  words  of  Hezekiah,  King  of  Judah.” 
Well  might  any  nation  repose  on  one  to  whom  even 
now  the  world  may  turn  as  a signal  example  of  what 
is  meant  by  Faith,  as  distinct  from  Fanaticism. 

The  intelligence  of  these  preparations  reached  Senna- 


1 Such  is  the  real  meaning  of  Isa. 
XXX.  7. 

2 2 Kings  xviii.  21  ; Isa.  xxxvi.  6. 

3 Isa.  xviii.,  xix.,  xx.  4-6 ; xxx.  1- 
I ; xxxi.  1-3. 

* Ecclus.  xlviii.  17. 


5 2 Chr.  xxxii.  4 (Heb.)  ; see  Isa. 
viii.  6 ; Ps.  xlvi.  4. 

® 2 Chr.  xxxii.  5;  comp.  2 Kings 
xiv.  13. 

7 2 Chr.  xxxii.  5. 

® Ibid,  xxxii.  3,  6. 


-3  L«ct.  XXXVIII.  INVASION  OF  SENNACHERIB. 


527 


^cherib  as  be  was  encamped  before  Lachish,  seated  in 
state,  as  we  see  him  in  the  monuments,  on  his  sculpt- 
ured throne,  his  bow  and  arrows  in  his  hand,  his 
chariots  and  horses  of  regal  pomp  behind  him ; the 
prisoners  bending  before  him,  half-clothed  and  bare- 
foot, from  the  captured  citj.^  From  this  proud  posi- 
tion he  sent  a large  detachment  to  Jerusalem,  headed 
bj  the  Tartan,  or  General  ” of  the  host.^  They  took 
up  their  position  on  the  north  of  the  city,  on  a spot 
long  afterwards  known  as  ^Hhe  camp  of  the  Assyr- 
ians.”^ The  General,  accompanied  by  two  high  per- 
sonages, known  like  himself  through  their  official  titles, 
L the  Head  of  the  Cupbearers  ” and  Head  of  the 
' Eunuchs,”^  approached  the  walls,  and  came  to  the 
same  spot  where,  many  years  before,  Isaiah  had  met 
Ahaz.^  Hezekiah  feared  to  appear.®  In  his  place  came 
Eliakim,  now  chief  minister,  Shebna  now  in  the  office 
of  secretaiy,  and  Joah  the  royal  historian.  The  Chief 
Cupbearer  was  the  spokesman.  He  spoke  in  Hebrew. 
The  Jewish  chiefs  entreated  him  to  speak  in  his  own 
Aramaic.  But  his  purpose  was  directly  to  address  the 
spectators,  as  they  sate  on  the  houses  along  the  city 
wall,  and  his  speech  breathes  the  spirit  which  pervades 
all  the  representations  of  Assyrian  power.  That  grave 
majestic  physiognomy,  that  secure  reliance  on  the 
protecting  genius  under  whose  wings  the  King  stands 
on  his  throne  or  in  his  chariot,  finds  its  exact  counter- 
part in  the  lofty  irony,  the  inflexible  sternness,  the  calm 
appeal  to  a superhuman  wisdom  and  grandeur,  the 
confidence,  as  in  a Divine  mission  to  sweep  away  the 
religions  of  all  the  surrounding  countries,  which  we 

1 As  in  Isa.  xx.  4.  See  Layard,  4 Rab-SJiakeh  and  Rab-Saris. 

Nineveh  and  Babylon^  149-152.  ^ 2 Kings  xviii.  17;  compare  Tsa 

2 2 Kings  xviii.  17.  vii.  3. 

3 Joseph.  Z?.  /.  V.  7,  § 3 ; 12,  § 2.  6 Joseph.  Ant.  x.  1,  § 2. 


628 


HEZEKIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVill 


read  in  tlie  defiance  both  of  the  Eab-Shakeh  and  of 
the  great  King  himself^ 

The  defiance  was  received  by  the  people  in  dead 
silence.  The  three  ministers  tore  their  garments  in 
horror,  and  appeared  in  that  state  before  the  King. 
He,  too,  gave  way  to  the  same  nncontrolled  burst  of 
grief.  He  and  they  both  dressed  themselves  in  sack- 
^'loth,  and  the  King  took  refuge  in  the  Temple.  The 
ministers  went  to  seek  comfort  from  Isaiah.  The 
insulting  embassy  returned  to  Sennacherib.  The  army 
was  moved  from  Lachish  and  lay  in  front  of  the  for- 
tress of  Libnah.  A letter  couched  in  terms  like  those 
already  used  by  his  envoys,  was  sent  direct  from  the 
King  of  Assyria  to  the  King  of  Judah.  What  would 
be  their  fate  if  they  were  taken,  they  might  know 
from  the  fate  of  Lachish,  which  we  still  see  on  the 
sculptured  monuments,  where  the  inhabitants  are  lying 
before  the  King,  stripped  in  order  to  be  flayed  alive.^ 
Hezekiah  took  the  letter,  and  penetrating,  as  it  would 

seem,  into  the  most  Holy  Place,  laid  it  before  the 
Divine  Presence  enthroned  above  the  cherubs,  and 
called  upon  Him  whose  name  it  insulted,  to  look  down 
and  see  with  His  own  eyes  the  outrage  that  was  offered 
to  Him.  From  that  dark  recess  no  direct  answer  was 
vouchsafed.  The  answer  came  through  the  mouth  of 
Isaiah.  From  the  first  moment  that  Sennacherib’s 
army  had  appeared,  he  had  held  the  same  language 
of  unbroken  hope  and  confidence,  clothed  in  every 
variety  of  imagery.  At  one  time  it  was,  as  we  have 

seen,  the  rock  of  Zion  amidst  the  raging  flood.  At 
another,  it  was  the  lion  of  Judah,  roaring  fiercely  for 
his  prey,  undismayed  by  the  multitude  of  rustic  shep- 

5 9 ^J-Qgs  xviii.  18-35 ; Isa.  x 8-  2 Layard,  Nineveh  and  Babylon^ 

11.  150. 


Lect.  XXXVIII.  INVASION  OF  SENNACHERIB. 


529 


herds  gathered  round  to  frighten  him.’  At  another,  it 
is  the  everlasting  wings  of  the  Divine  protection,  like 
those  of  a parent  bird  brooding  over  her  young  against 
the  great  Birdsnester  of  the  world,  whose  hand  is  in 
every  nest,  gathering  every  egg  that  is  left,  till  no 
pinion  should  be  left  to  flutter,  no  beak  left  to  chirp.^ 
Or,  again,  it  is  the  mighty  cedar  of  Lebanon,  with  its 
canopy  of  feathering  branches,  which  yet  shall  be 
hewn  down  with  a crash  that  shall  make  the  nations 
shake  at  the  sound  of  his  fall;  whilst  the  tender 
branch  and  green  shoot  shall  spring  up  out  of  the  dry 
and  withered  stump  of  the  tree  of  Jesse,^  which  shall 
take  root  downward  and  bear  fruit  upward.  Or,  again, 
it  is  the  contest  between  the  Virgin  Queen,  the  im- 
pregnable^ daughter  of  Zion,  sitting  on  her  mountain 
fastness,  shaking  her  head  in  noble  scorn,  and  the 
savage  monster,  the  winged  bull,  which  had  come  up 
against  her,  led  captive,  with  a ring  in  his  nostrils,  and 
a bridle  in  his  lips,  to  turn  him  back  by  the  way  by 
which  he  came.^  At  times  he  speaks  plainly  and 
without  a figure.  Where  is  the  scribe,  where  the 
receivers,  where  is  he  that  counted  the  towers  ? ” 
Behold  in  the  morning  he  is,  and  in  the  evening  he 
is  not.”  He  shall  not  come  into  this  city,  nor  shoot 
“ an  arrow  there,  nor  come  before  it  with  shields,  nor 
‘^cast  up  a bank  against  it.”® 

It  was  a day  of  awful  suspense.  In  proportion  to  the 
strength  of  Isaiah’s  confidence  and  of  Heze-  Fail  of 

^ ^ . Sennache* 

kiali’s  devotion,  would  have  been  the  rum  of  the  nb. 

1 Isa.  xxxi.  4.  expression  “ virgin  fortress  ” was  used 

2 Ibid.  xxxi.  5 ; x.  14.  then  as  with  us. 

3 Ibid.  x.  33, 34  (comp.  Ezek.  xxxi.  ^ xxxvii.  29.  As  the  captives 

S-6)  ; xi.  1 ; xiv.  8.  on  tlie  walls  of  Khorsabad  (Thenlus). 

4 See  the  quotations  by  Gesenius  6 Ibid,  xxxiii.  18 ; xvii.  14 ; xxxvii 
3n  Isa.  xxiii.  12,  to  show  that  the  33. 

34 


VOL  II. 


530 


HEZEKIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVIll. 


JeAvish  Church  and  faith,  if  they  had  been  disappointed 
of  their  hope.  It  was  a day  of  suspense  also  for  the 
two  great  armies  which  were  drawing  near  to  their 
encounter  on  the  confines  of  Palestine.  Like  Anianus 
in  the  siege  of  Orleans/  Hezekiah  must  have  looked 
southward  and  westward  with  ever  keener  and  keener 
eagerness.  For  already  there  was  a rumor  that  Tir- 
liakali  the  King  of  Egypt  was  on  his  way  to  the  rescue. 
Already  Sennacherib  had  heard  the  rumor,  and  it  was 
this  which  precipitated  his  endeavor  to  intimidate  Jeru- 
salem into  submission. 

The  evening  closed  in  on  what  seemed  to  be  the 
devoted  city.  The  morning  dawned,  and  with  the 
morning  came  the  tidings  from  the  camp  at  Libnah, 
that  they  were  delivered.  ^‘Una  nox  interfuit  inter 
‘^maximum  exercitum  et  nullum.”  ^^It  came  to  pass 
[that  night^  ] that  the  Angel  of  Jehovah  went  forth, 
^^and  smote  in  the  camp  of  the  Assyrians  a hundred 
and  fourscore  and  five  thousand.” 

By  whatever  mode  accomplished^  — whether  by 
plague  or  tempest ; or  on  whatever  scene,  whether,  as 
seems  implied  by  the  Jewish  account,  at  Lachish,  or,  by 


1 Gibbon,  chap.  34. 

2 2 Kings  xix.  35.  These  words 
are  not  in  Isa.  xxxvii.  36.  But  the 
laet  that  it  was  in  a single  night  is 
confirmed  by  Ps.  xlvl.  5 (Heb.)  ; Isa. 
xvii.  14. 

3 By  what  special  means  this  great 
destruction  was  effected,  with  how 
large  or  how  small  a remnant  Sen- 
nacherib returned,  is  not  told.  It 
might  be  a pestilential  blast  (Isa. 
Kx\\i\.  7;  Josepli.  Ant.  x.  1,  §5), 
according  to  the.  analogy  by  which 
a pestilence  is  usually  described  in 
Scripture  und^^r  the  image  of  a de- 


stroying angel  (Ps.  Ixxviii.  49 ; 2 
Sam.  xxiv.  16)  ; and  the  numbers 
are  not  greater  than  are  recorded  as 
perishing  within  very  short  periods  — 

150.000  Carthaginians  in  Sicily, 

500.000  in  seven  months  at  Cairo 
(Gesenlus,  ad  loc.).  It  might  be  ac- 
companied by  a storm.  So  Vitringa 
understood  it,  and  this  would  best 
suit  the  words  in  Isa.  xxx.  29.  Such 
is  the  Talmudic  tradition,  according 
to  which  the  stones  were  still  to  be 
seen  in  the  Pass  of  Bethhoron,  up 
which  Sennacherib  was  supposed  to 
be  advancing  with  his  army. 


Lect.  XXXVIIL 


FALL  OF  SENNACHERIB. 


631 


the  Egyptian  account,  at  Pelusium  ^ — the  deliverance 
itself  was  complete  and  final.  The  Assyrian  King  at 
once  returned,  and,  according  to  the  Jewish  tradition, 
wreaked  his  vengeance  on  the  Israelite  exiles  whom  he 
found  in  Mesopotamia.^  He  was  the  last  of  the  great 
Assyrian  conquerors.  No  Assyrian  host  again  ever 
crossed  the  Jordan.  Within  a few  years  from  that  time, 
as  we  have  seen,  the  Assyrian  power  suddenly  vanished 
from  the  earth. 

The  effect  of  the  event  must  have  been  immense,  in 
proportion  to  the  strain  of  expectation  and  apprehension 
that  had  preceded  it.  Isaiah  had  staked  upon  his 
prophetic  word  the  existence  of  his  country,  his  own 
and  his  people’s  faith  in  God.  So  literally  had  that 
word  been  fulfilled  that  he  was  himself,  in  after-times, 
regarded  as  the  instrument  ^ of  the  deliverance.  There 
is  no  direct  expression  of  his  triumph  at  the  moment, 
but  it  is  possible  that  we  have  his  hymn  ^ of  thanks- 
giving when  he  afterwards  heard  of  the  world-renowned 
murder  which  struck  down  the  mighty  King^  in  the 
temple  at  Nineveh.®  The  earth  again  breathes  freely. 
The  sacred  cedar-grove  feels  itself  once  more  secure. 
The  world  of  shades,  the  sepulchre  of  kings,  prepares  to 
receive  its  new  inmate. 


Art  thou  also  become  weak  as  we  ? art  thou  become  as  one  of  us  ? 
How  art  thou  fallen  from  heaven,  O Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning ! 


1 Herod,  ii.  141. 

2 Tobit  i.  18. 

3 Ecclus.  xlviii.  20,  “ delivered 

ihem  by  the  ministry  of  Esay.” 

The  argument  in  Strachey’s  He- 
nf-ew  Politics,  149,  seems  to  be  very 
strong,  for  supposing  that  by  the 
‘king”  in  Isa.  xiv.  4 is  meant  the 
King  of  Assyria. 


5 See  Vance  Smith,  Assyrian 
Prophecies,  212;  Gesenius  on  Isa. 
xxxix.  1. 

® The  god  Nisroch,  to  whom  the 
temple  is  dedicated,  is  unknown  to 
the  Assyrian  inscriptions,  and  is  in 
the  Greek  MSS.  variously  reported 
as  Asarac,  Mesoroc,  or  Nasarac.  Raw- 
linson,  ii.  265. 


532 


HEZEKIAH. 


Lect.  XXX VIU. 


How  art  thou  cut  down  to  the  earth,  that  didst  weaken  the  nations ! 

Js  this  the  man  that  made  the  earth  to  tremble,  that  did  shake 
kingdoms  ? 

That  made  the  earth  as  a wilderness,  and  destroyed  the  cities  thereof? 
All  the  kings  of  the  nations,  all  of  them  rest  in  glory,  each  one  in  his 
house  ; 

But  thou  art  cast  out  of  thy  grave  like  an  abominable  branch.^ 

If  there  is  any  doubt  as  to  the  Prophet’s  utterance, 
there  is  none  as  to  the  burst  of  national  thanksgiving 
as  incorporated  in  the  Book  of  Psalms,^  when,  at  the 
close  of  that  night,  God’s  help  appeared  as  the  morn- 
ing  broke.”  ^ The  rock  of  Zion^  had  remained  im- 
movable, deriving  only  life  and  freshness  from  the 
deluge  of  the  mighty  river  which  had  swept  the  sur- 
rounding kingdoms  into  the  sea.  The  Prophetic  pledge 
of  the  name  of  ImmanueP  was  redeemed.  Again  and 
again  the  Psalmist  repeats,  God  is  our  refuge ; ” God 
is  in  the  midst  of  her ; ” the  Lord  of  hosts  is  with 
us  ; ” the  God  of  Jacob,  the  God  of  Jacob,  is  our 
refuge.”  In  Salem  is  His  leafy  covert,  and  His  rocky 
den  in  Zion.”  ® The  weapons  of  the  great  army,  such 
as  we  see  them  in  the  Assyrian  monuments  — the 
mighty  bow  and  its  lightning  arrows,  the  serried  shields  ^ 
— were  shattered  to  pieces.  The  long  array  of  dead 
horses,®  the  chariots  now  useless  left  to  be  burnt,®  the 
trophies  carried  off  from  the  dead,  all  rise  to  view  in 
the  recollection  of  that  night.  The  proud  have  slept 

1 Isa.  xiv.  (Ewald  and  LXX.).  ^ Isa.  xxxvii.  33  ; Ps.  Ixxvi.  3, 

2 Ps.  xlvi.,  Ixxvi.,  perhaps  also  (Heb.)  ; xlvi.  9 ; Herod,  ii  141  ; Lay- 

xlviii.  and  Ixxv.  ard’s  iV7neyc^,  ii.  340-342. 

3 Ibid.  xlvi.  5 (Heb.  and  Perowne).  ® Ps.  Ixxvi.  6;  Isa.  xxxvii.  36 
Compare  Isa.  xvii.  14*,  xxxvii.  36.  The  word  used  always  includes  ani- 

4 Ps.  xlvi.  3,  4,  6 ; Isa.  viii.  7.  mals. 

**  The  river  ”=  Euphrates.  3 Ps.  xlvi.  9.  Compare  Isa.  ix.  5 

^ Isa.  vii.  14.  (Lowth). 

® Ps.  xlvi.  1,5,  7,  11  ; Ixxvi.  1,  2. 


Lecf.  XXXVIII. 


FALL  OF  SENNACHERIB 


533 


their  sleep,  and  the  mighty  soldiers  ^ fling  out  their 
hands  in  vain.  The  arms  have  fallen  from  their  grasp. 
The  neigh  of  the  charger,  the  rattle  of  the  chariot,  are 
alike  hushed  in  the  sleep  of  death.  The  wild  uproar  is 
over,  the  whole  world  is  silent,^  and  in  that  awful  still- 
ness the  Israelites  descend  from  the  heights  of  Jerusa- 
lem,^ like  their  ancestors  to  the  shores  of  the  Red  Sea, 
to  see  the  desolation  that  had  been  wrought  on  the 
earth.  As  then,  they  carried  away  the  spoils  as  trophies. 
The  towers  of  Jerusalem  were  brilliant  with  the  shields^ 
of  the  dead.  The  fame  of  the  fall  of  Sennacherib’s 
host  struck  the  surrounding  nations  with  terror  far  and 
wide.  It  was  like  the  knell  of  the  great  potentates  of 
the  world  ; and  in  their  fall  the  God  of  Israel  seemed  to 
rise  to  a higher  and  yet  higher  exaltation.^ 

The  importance  of  the  deliverance  was  not  confined 
to  the  country  or  the  times  of  Hezekiah.  From  the 
surrounding  tribes  tribute  poured  in  as  to  an  awful 
Avenger.®  One  such  monument  long  remained  in  Egypt. 
Tirhakah,  with  his  advancing  army  from  the  south,  no 
less  than  Hezekiah  on  the  watch-towers  of  Jerusalem, 
heard  the  tidings  with  joy ; and,  three  centuries  after- 
wards, the  Psalmist’s  exulting  cry,  that  an  Invisible 
power  had  broken  the  arrows  of  the  bow,  the  shield, 
the  sword,  and  the  battle  ” was  repeated  in  other 
language,  but  with  the  same  meaning,  by  Egyptian 
priests,  who  told  to  Grecian  travellers  how  Sennacherib’s 
army  had  been  attacked  by  mice,  which  devoured  the 
quivers,  the  arrows,  the  bows,  the  handles  of  the  shields. 
\nd  a statue  of  the  Egyptian  king  Sethos  ^ was  pointed 

1 Ps.  Ixxvi.  5 ; xlvl.  10.  6 Ixxvi.  11  ; 2 Chr.  xxiii.  32. 

2 Ibid.  Ixxvi.  8 ; xlvi.  10.  Sethos  was  the  King  of  Lower 

3 Ibid.  xlvi.  8 ; Ixxvi.  4,  5.  (as  Tirhakah  of  Upper)  Egypt.  See 

^ Ibid.  Ixxvi.  4 (Heb.).  Kenrick’s  Egypt,  ii.  394. 

^ Ibid.  Ixxvi.  10,  11 ; xlvi.  10. 


634 


HEZEKIAH 


lect.  xxxvm 


out  in  the  temple  of  Phthah  at  Memphis,  holding  in  his 
hand  the  mouse,  with  the  inscription,  Look  at  me,  and 
be  religious.”  ^ 

That  general  reflection  of  the  pious  Egyptian  is  com- 
mon both  to  him  and  to  Hezekiah.  But  in  connection 
with  the  Jewish  history,  the  fall  of  Sennacherib  has  at 
once  a more  special  and  a more  extensive  significance. 
It  is  the  confirmation  of  Isaiah’s  doctrine  of  the  rem- 
nant, the  pledge  of  success  to  the  few  against  the  many. 
Be  strong  and  courageous ; be  not  afraid  or  dismayed 
of  the  king  of  Assyria,  nor  for  all  the  multitude  that 
^^is  with  him : for  there  be  more  with  us  than  with  him: 
with  him  is  an  arm  of  flesh,  but  with  us  is  the  Lord 
God,  to  help  us  and  to  fight  our  battles.”  Nor  have 
its  echoes  ever  ceased.  The  Maccabees^  were  sustained 
l)y  the  recollection  of  it  in  their  struggle  against  Anti- 
ochus.  It  is  not  without  reason  that  in  the  churches  of 
Moscow  the  exultation  over  the  fall  of  Sennacherib  is 
still  read  on  the  anniversary  of  the  retreat  of  the 
French  from  Russia ; or  that  Arnold,  in  his  Lectures  on 
Modern  History,  in  the  impressive  passage  ® in  which  he 
dwells  on  that  great  catastrophe,  declared  that  for  the 
memorable  night  of  frost  in  which  20,000  horses 
perished,  and  the  strength  of  the  French  army  was 
••  utterly  broken,”  he  knew  of  no  language  so  well 
fitted  to  describe  it  as  the  words  in  which  Isaiah  de- 
scribed  the  advance  and  destruction  of  the  host  of 
Sennacherib.”  The  grandeur  of  the  deliverance  has 
passed  into  the  likeness  of  all  sudden  national  escapes. 

1 Herod,  ii.  141.  The  explanation  2 j Macc.  vii.  41. 

of  the  mouse  as  the  symbol  of  in-  3 Lectures  on  Modern  History^  177 

visible  destruction  (in  Horapollo,  and  compare  Coleridge  on  Isa.  xlvii 
xlvii.)  was  first  observed  by  Dean  7-13,  in  Statesman’s  Manual. 

Mihnan  in  England,  and  Eichhorn  in 
Germany 


Ucr.  XXXVIII. 


FALL  OF  SENNACHERIB. 


535 


The  opening  watchword  of  the  Judean  psalm  of  tri- 
umph, God  is  our  refuge  and  strength,”  has  furnished 
the  inscriptions  over  the  greatest  of  Eastern  churches,’ 
and  the  foundation  of  the  most  stirring  national  hymn 
of  Western  Europe.^  One  of  the  least  religious  of 
English  poets,  by  the  mere  force  of  kindred  genius,  has 
so  entirely,  though  unconsciously,  absorbed  into  his 
‘^Hebrew  Melody”  the  minutest  allusions  of  the  con- 
temporary Prophets  and  Psalmists,  as  to  make  it  a fit 
conclusion  for  the  whole  event: — 

The  Assyrian  came  down  like  the  wolf  on  the  fold, 

And  his  cohorts  were  gleaming  ^ in  purple  and  gold ; 

Like  the  leaves'*  of  the  forest  when  Summer  is  green, 

That  host  with  their  banners  at  sunset  were  seen. 


Like  the  leaves  of  the  forest  when  Autumn  hath  blown, 
That  host  on  the  moi  row  lay  wither’d  and  strewn. 

For  the  Angel  of  Death  ® spread  his  wings  on  the  blast,* 
And  breathed  in  the  face  of  the  foe  as  he  pass’d : 

And  the  eyes  of  the  sleepers  wax’d  deadly  and  chill. 

And  their  hearts  but  once  heaved,  and  forever  grew  still  !'^ 
And  there  lay  the  steed  ® with  his  nostril  all  wide. 

Though  through  it  there  roll’d  not  the  breath  of  his  pride. 


And  the  tents  were  all  silent,  the  banners  alone. 

The  lances  ® unlifted,  the  trumpet  unblown. 

And  the  might  of  the  Gentile,  unsmote  by  the  sword. 
Hath  melted  like  snow  in  the  glance  of  the  Lord  ! 


1 The  cathedral  of  St.  Sophia  at 
Constantinople,  and  the  earliest  ca- 
thedral of  the  Russian  Empire  at 
Kieff. 

2 Luther’s  psalm,  composed  first 
for  his  own  support,  — sung  since  in 
all  the  critical  periods  of  the  German 
nation,  — “ Ein’  feste  Burg  ist  unser 
orott”  (Wackernagel’s  Geschichte  der 
Kirchenlieder,  No.  210).  It  is  given, 


with  an  admirable  translation,  la 
Carlyle’s  Essaijs,  ii.  397. 

3 Ezek.  xxiii.  12,  14. 

4 Isa.  X.  34. 

5 2 Chr.  xxxii.  21  ; Isa.  xxxvii.  86 

6 Isa.  xxxvii.  7. 

7 Ps.  Ixxvi.  5,  8. 

8 Ibid.  Ixxvi.  6. 

9 Ibid.  xlvi.  9. 

10  Ibid.  xlvi.  6. 


536 


HEZEKIAH. 


Lect.  XXX  VUL 


Beneath  the  excitement  of  the  public  crisis,  there 
was  within  the  palace  a cause  for  anxiety  hardly  less. 
During  Sennacherib’s  invasion,  or  immediately  after 
his  retreat,^  Hezekiah,  as  if  worn  out  by  the  agitation 
of  the  time,  was  struck  down  with  illness.  According 
ninessof  to  the  Jewish  tradition  before  mentioned,  it 
B.  c.  712.  was  the  first  intimation  that  he  was  mortal. 
He  was  the  fourth  of  his  house  that  was  seized  with 
what  seemed  to  be  a fatal  disease.  But  what  in  Asa, 
Jehoram,  and  Uzziah  had  been  regarded  as  deserved 
visitations,  in  Hezekiah  was  regarded  as  a national 
calamity.  There  is  no  sickness  in  the  Jewish  annals 
so  pathetically  recorded.  With  that  plaintive  tender- 
ness of  character,  which  he  seems  to  have  inherited 
from  his  great  ancestor,  he  could  not  bear  to  part  with 
life.  He  turned  his  face  away  from  the  light  of  day 
to  the  blank  wall  of  his  chamber.  He  spoke  of  his 
upright  deeds.  He  broke  into  a passionate  burst  of 
tears.  He  had  no  children  to  leave  behind  him.^  The 
darkness  of  the  grave  was  before  him,  with  nothing 
to  cheer  him.  Just  as  he  had  gained  ^^rest”^  from 
his  troubles,  the  gates  of  the  sepulchral  chamber 
seemed  to  open  before  him.  The  dark  and  silent 
world  ” was  close  at  hand,^  in  which  he  would  no 
longer  see  the  Divine  Presence,  in  which  the  voice  of 
praise  could  no  longer  be  heard.  His  tent  was  struck, 
his  thread  of  life  was  severed.®  From  morning  till 
night,  and  from  night  till  morning,  he  wasted  away. 
The  cry  of  a dying  lion,  the  plaintive  murmur  of  a 

1 If  this  view  is  taken,  2 Kings  2 Joseph.  Ant.  x.  2,  § 1. 

XX.  6 must  be  considered  as  referring  ^ Isa.  xxxviii.  10  (Heb.),  17. 

to  a fear  least  Sennacherib  should  ^ Ibid,  xxxviii.  11,  18. 

retui  n,  and  “ the  rest”  in  Isa.  xxxviii.  5 Ibid,  xxxviii.  12,  13,14. 

10  alludes,  in  that  case,  to  the  re- 
treat. 


Lecp.  XXXVIII. 


HIS  ILLNESS. 


537 


wounded  dove,  were  the  only  sounds  that  could  be 
heard  from  the  sick-chamber.  By  his  side  stood  the 
faithful  Isaiah.  There  seemed  no  hope  of  recovery. 
The  Prophetic  message  which  he  had  to  deliver  was, 
^^Thou  shalt  die,^  and  not  live.”  But  the  words  had 
hardly  left  his  lips  than,  like  the  stern  prediction  of 
Micah  at  the  beginning  of  Hezekiah’s  reign,  they  were 
withdrawn.  Before  he  had  passed  the  precincts  of 
the  palace,  a brighter  vision  was  revealed  to  him.  He 
returned.  He  applied  the  usual  Eastern  remedy  of 
a cluster  of  figs^  on  the  tumor  which  threatened  the 
King’s  life.  Instant  relief  ensued.  The  Hisrecov- 
King’s  spirit  revived.  He  asked,  like  his 
father  Ahaz,  for  a sign  to  confirm  the  hope  that  he 
might  once  again  pass  up  the  steps  in  his  royal  pro- 
cession to  the  Temple.  The  sign  was  given.  Unlike 
many  of  the  wonders  of  the  Jewish  history,  which  are 
told  by  writers  long  after  the  event,  this  is  related, 
as  it  would  seem,  by  an  eye-witness,  at  least  by  a con- 
temporary. But,  like  the  sign  granted  to  his  father, 
it  is  for  us  wrapt  in  obscurity.  What  were  the  steps  ” 
of  Ahaz,®  how  the  movement  of  the  shadow  upon 
them  could  be  said  to  confirm  the  rising  hopes  of  the 
King,  we  have  no  means  of  ascertaining.  Of  all  the 
possible  natural  causes,  by  which  such  a phenomenon 
might  have  been  produced,  the  only  one  which  can  be 
supposed  even  remotely  to  illustrate  it  is  the  fact 
that  a partial  eclipse  of  the  sun  took  place  at  Jeru- 
salem,^ as  far  as  can  be  known,  in  the  year  of  Heze- 
kiah’s illness. 

1 Isa.  xxxvili.  1.  4 On  Sept.  26,  b.  c.  713.  See  the 

2 This  is  to  this  day  one  of  the  calculations  in  Thenius  on  2 Kings 
simple  nethods  of  curing  a boil  or  xx.  9-11.  The  change  of  the  shadow, 
4che,  in  Turkey  and  Persia  (Morier).  however,  would  be,  I am  told,  almost 

* 2 Kings  XX.  9 (LXX.).  imperceptible,  except  to  a scientific 


638 


HEZEKIAH. 


Lect.  XXXVIIL 


The  King  recoveied  at  once.  In  three  days  he  was 
ible  to  appear  in  the  Temple,  and  the  almost  funereal 
dirge  of  his  sick-chamber  was  then  blended  with  the 
praise  of  triumphant  thanksgiving  with  which  he  re- 
turns to  the  living  "world ^ of  joyous  human  voices 
and  sounding  music,  rejoicing  in  the  Living  Source 
of  all  life,  and  looking  forward  to  handing  on  the 
truth  to  children  yet  unborn. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  recovery  that,  there 
Babylonian  arrived  at  Jerusalem  an  embassy  from  the 
embassy.  great  city  of  Babylon,  here  first  distinctly 
mentioned  in  the  historical  narrative.  The  King  was 
Merodach-Baladan,^  the  rival  or  rebel  King  against 
the  Assyrians.  Many  motives  may  have  conspired  to 
draw  the  strangers  to  Palestine.  It  may  have  been 
to  contract^  an  alliance  with  the  now  powerful  Heze- 
kiah , against  the  declining  Empire  of  Assyria.  It 
may  have  been,  as  the  general  tenor  of  the  narrative 
indicates,  to  observe  the  internal  resources  of  the 
country.  It  was,  as  we  are  expressly  told,  to  join  in 
the  general  homage  of  the  surrounding  nations,  awe- 
struck by  the  destruction  of  the  Assyrian  army;  and 
also,  with  the  peculiar  curiosity  of  Chaldaean  sages, 
whilst  they  congratulated  Hezekiah  on  his  recovery, 
to  inquire  into  the  astronomical  ^ wonders  with  which 
it  was  connected.  He,  in  return  with  that  high  relig- 
ious elation  which,  according  to  Jewish  tradition,  min- 
gled with  his  gentle  and  devout  character,  showed 
them  exultingly  over  his  splendid  stores.  The  rumor 

observer.  The  variations  of  the  text  l Isa.  xxxviii.  16,  18,  19,  20. 

in  2 Kings  xx.  and  Isa.  xxxviii.,  and  2 Described  in  Berosus.  See  Raw 

the  general  import  of  the  whole  trans-  linson,  li.  417-438. 
action,  are  well  given  in  Strachey’s  3 Joseph.  Ant.  x.  2,  § 2. 

Hebrew  Politics,  289.  4 2 Chr.  xxxii.  31. 


Lect.  XXXVIIL 


HIS  DEATH. 


539 


of  their  visit  spread  through  Jerusalem.  It  was 
almost  the  first  time  that  the  name  of  the  imperial 
Eastern  city  had  been  heard  in  Jerusalem.  Once,  by 
Micah/  a joyful  visit,  rather  than  a painful  exile,  to 
Babylon  had  been  pronounced.  Now  the  name  sug- 
gests a darker  prospect.  Isaiah,  when  he  heard  from 
the  King  whence  those  strangers  had  come,  drew  aside 
the  veil  from  the  event,  never  named  before,  but 
henceforth  never  absent  from  the  visions  of  the  Jewish 
Prophets,  — the  Babylonian  Captivity.  Those  treasures 
which  had  been  so  carefully  accumulated  — those  sons 
of  the  royal  house,  whom  Hezekiah  had  so  anxiously 
desired,  would  become  the  prey  of  the  new  power, 
just  beginning  to  appear  above  the  horizon,  and  soon 
to  fill  it  from  end  to  end.^ 

The  hopes  of  Hezekiah,  as  we  have  seen,  were 
entirely  confined  within  the  limits  of  this  life.  None 
of  the  Jewish  Kings  had  a keener  sense  of  the  gran- 
deur of  his  mission;  but  to  none  was  it  so  closely 
identified  with  the  interests  of  the  present.  The  fif- 
teen years  of  the  remainder  of  his  life  seemed  to  be 
so  much  rescued  from  the  desolation  of  impending 
calamities.  When  his  end  at  last  came,  his  peathof 
funeral  was  marked  with  unusual  honor,  b.  c.  697. 
The  whole  population  of  the  city  and  of  the  royal 
tribe  of  Judah  were  present.  His  burial  forms  a 
marked  epoch  in  the  royal  interments.  It  may  be 
that  David’s  catacomb  was  filled.  Hezekiah  is  the 
first  king  who  was  buried  outside  the  city  of  David.® 
A^pparently  his  tomb  was  on  the  road  approaching  to 

1 Micah  iv.  10.  Prophecy,  Isa.  xl. — Ixvi.  But  see 

2 Isa.  xxxlx.  2-7.  This,  if  any,  Lecture  XL. 

leriod  in  the  actual  life  of  Isaiah  ^ 2 Chr.  xxxli.  33  (Heb  ),  ami  also 
amst  be  the  occasion  of  the  great  2 Kings  xx.  21  (Thenlus). 


9 


540  HEZLKIAH.  Lect.  XXXVnL 

the  ancient  burial-place  of  his  family,  aiid  from  this 
time  no  prince  of  the  royal  house  was  interred  within 
the  walls. 

If  we  may  trust  the  dates  which  bring  the  death 
of  Sennacherib  and  of  Sethos  within  the  same  period, 
additional  point  would  be  given  to  the  peaceful  strains 
in  which  the  aged  Isaiah,  seemingly  at  this  same  time, 
rose  above  the  contentions  and  troubles  of  his  earlier 
days,  and  instead  of  denouncing  Egyptian  alliances 
and  Assyrian  invasions,  looked  forward  to  the  happy 
union  of  the  three  nations  which  had  been  so  hope- 
lessly entangled  in  strife  and  jealousy,  — when  Israel 
shall  be  third  in  the  midst  of  the  land  with  Egypt 
“ and  with  Assyria.  . . . Blessed  be  Egypt  my  people, 
and  Assyria,  the  work  of  my  hands,  and  Israel  mine 
inheritance.”^  And  to  this  responds  the  87th  Psalm, 
probably  of  the  same  epoch.  Glorious  things  are 
spoken  of  thee,  0 city  of  God.  Rahab^  and  Babylon 
I claim  amongst  those  who  know  me.  Philistia, 
^^Tyre,  and  Ethiopia  were  born  there.”  There  is  no 
distinction  drawn.  These  foreign  races  are  reckoned 
as  parts  of  the  Chosen  People.  Their  claim  on  the 
Divine  Providence  is  acknowledged.  Henceforth  the 
true  citizenship  of  Jerusalem  is  no  longer  confined  to 
the  earthly  city  of  Palestine. 


1 Isa.  xix.  23-25  (Ewald). 


2 Rahab  = Egypt,  Ps.  Ixxxvii.  4 


LECTURE  XXXIX. 


MANASSEH  AND  JOSIAH. 

Tide  Paganism  which  had  infected  the  J ewish  nation 
fi?om  its  earliest  times,  and  which  from  Solomon’s  reign 
had  been  constantly  struggling  for  the  ascendant,  made 
one  last  violent  effort,  after  the  removal  of  Hezekiah, 
similar  to  that  which  took  place  in  the  Roman  Empire 
under  the  Emperor  Julian.  Whether  or  not  there  be 
any  ground  for  fancying  that  Hezekiah  had  long  de- 
ferred his  marriage,  from  a belief  in  his  own  immor- 
tality, it  did  in  fact  not  take  place,  so  far  as  we  can 
see,  till  after  the  recovery  from  his  illness.  His  wife 
was  a native^  of  Jerusalem,  traditionally  the  daughter 
of  Isaiah,  and  bore  a name  of  good  omen,  — the  De- 
lightful,” — Hephzibah.  The  brilliant  croAvns,  the  joy- 
ous festivity  of  the  marriage,^  were  long  remembered. 
The  young  Prince  — perhaps  in  allusion  to  the  zeal 
with  which  that  northern  tribe  had  joined  in  Heze- 
kiah’s  reforms  or  to  the  desire  which  prevailed  in  Heze- 
kiah’s  reign  for  a union  of  the  two  kingdoms  — was 
called  by  the  unusual  name  of  Manasseh.^  On  Manasseh. 
liis  father’s  death  he  was  but  a boy  of  twelve  697-642. 
years  old.  It  would  seem  that  the  Jewish  aristocracy, 
always  inclining  to  the  worship  and  belief  of  the  sur- 

1 Josephus,  Ant.  x.  3,  § 1.  3 See  Gesenlus  ; also  Professor 

2 Isa.  Ixi.  10  ; Ixii.  3,  4,  5.  (See  Plumptre  in  Dictionary  of  the  Bihle^ 
I»lunt,  Undes.  Coincidences^  Part  on  Manasseh. 

3,  V.) 


5^2 


MANASSEH 


Lect  XXXDC 


rounding  nations/  took  possession  of  tlie  j^onng  Prince, 
and  not  only  turned  his  mind  to  the  ancient  Polythe^ 
ism,  but  also  excited  him  to  an  almost  fanatical  hatred 
against  the  True  Eeligion,  possibly  exasperated  by  the 
hollowness  of  the  ceremonial  system,  as  Julian  was  by 
the  Christian  controversies.  All  the  strange  rites  of 
the  surrounding  nations  were  practised  with  an  ardor 
before  unknown.^  The  King  seems  to  have  formed 
with  Egypt  a connection  closer  than  any  since  the 
time  of  Solomon.  His  son  was  called  ‘^Amon,”  the 
only  name  of  an  Egyptian  divinity  that  we  find  in  the 
Jewish  annals.  He  plunged  into  all  the  mysteries  of 
sorcery,  auguries,  and  necromancy.  The  sacred  fur- 
nace of  Tophet  was  built  up  on  an  enlarged  scale.® 
He  himself  undertook  the  sacrifice  of  his  own  children.^ 
The  worship  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  begun  by  Ahaz, 
was  restored  and  eagerly  followed  everywhere.^  In 
the  gardens  and  on  the  flat  roofs  of  the  houses  were 
built  brick  altars,®  from  which  little  clouds  of  incense 
were  perpetually  ascending.  The  name  of  Molech 
became  a common  oath.'^  There  was  a succession  of 
small  furnaces®  in  the  streets,  for  which  the  children 
gathered  wood,  and  in  which  their  parents  baked  cakes 
as  offerings  to  Astarte.  Even  the  practice  of  human 
sacrifice  ® became  general. 

So  bold  an  intrusion  of  Paganism  could  not  but 
Return  of  involvc  a displacement  of  the  True  Worship. 
Paganism  j^oforo  this  time  the  two  forms  of  worship, 
when  they  had  existed  in  the  kingdom  of  Judah,  had 

1 2 Chr.  xxiv.  17,  18;  Jer.  vili.  6 Zeph.  i.  5;  Jer.  xix.  13;  Isa. 

I,  2,  Ixv.  3. 

2 2 Chr.  xxxlii.  6 ; 2 Kings  xxi.  6.  ^ Zeph.  i.  5. 

3 Jer.  vli.  31  ; xix.  5,  6 ; xxxii.  35.  ® Jer.  vii.  17,  18. 

* 2 Chr.  xxxiii.  6.  2 Ibid,  xxxii.  35;  Ezek.  xxiii.  37 

• Jer.  viii.  2 ; xix.  13. 


Lbct.  XXXIX. 


HIS  PERSECUTIONS. 


543 


flomished  side  by  side.  Even  Athaliali  had  not  ven- 
tured to  supersede  the  Temple-ritual.  Not  only  were 
the  high  places  in  the  country  restored/  but  two 
altars  were  set  up  in  the  two  courts  of  the  Temple  ^ to 
the  heavenly  bodies.  In  the  same  sacred  precincts  was 
a statue  of  Astarte.^  Close  by  were  houses  of  those 
who  lent  themselves  to  the  abominable  rites  with  which 
that  divinity  was  worshipped,  and  of  the  women  who 
wove  hangings  for  the  sanctuary.^  Vessels  too  were 
consecrated  in  the  Temple  to  the  use  of  Baal.^  Manas- 
seh  was  amongst  the  Kings  of  Judah  what  Ahab  had 
been  amongst  the  Kings  of  Israel/  the  first  persecutor. 
The  altar  in  front  of  the  Temple  was  desecrated.^  The 
ark  itself  was  removed  out  of  the  Holy  of  Holies.^ 
The  name  of  Jehovah  is  said  to  have  been  erased  from 
all  public  documents  and  inscriptions.^  The  nation  at 
large  was  thoroughly  cowed  by  this  fanatical  outburst. 
Only  here  and  there,  in  this  struggle  for  life  and  death, 
faithful  voices  were  lifted  up.  One,  whose  name  has 
been  almost  obliterated,  — Hozai,^®  who  survived  Ma- 
nasseh’s  reign  and  recorded  its  chief  events, — probably 
launched  the  terrible  invectives  which  denounced  on 
Jerusalem  the  doom  of  Samaria.^^  A reign  of  Persecu- 
terror  commenced  against  all  who  ventured  to 
resist  the  reaction.  Day  by  day  a fresh  batch of  the 
Prophetic  order  were  ordered  to  execution.  It  seemed 
as  if  a devouring  lion^^  were  let  loose  against  them. 
From  end  to  end^^  of  Jerusalem  were  to  be  seen  the 


1 2 Kings  xxi.  3. 

2 Ibid.  xxi.  5 ; xxiii.  12. 

3 Ibid.  xxi.  7 ; xxiii.  6. 

* Ibid,  xxiii.  6,  7. 

5 Ibid,  xxiii.  4. 

6 Ibid.  xxi.  3,  13. 

7 2 Chr.  xxxiii.  16. 

Ibid.  XXXV.  3;  Jer.  iii.  16  (?). 


9 Rabbinical  tradition,  quoted  by 
Patrick,  ad  loc. 

19  Translated  “ the  Seers,”  2 Chr 
xxxiii.  18,  19. 

11  2 Kings  xxi.  10-15. 

12  Josephus,  Ant.  x.  3,  § 1. 

13  Jer.  ii.  30. 

n 2 Kings  xxi.  16. 


544 


MANASSEII. 


Lect.  XXXIX 


traces  of  tlieir  blood.  The  nobles  who  took  their  part 
were  thrown  headlong  from  the  rocky  cliffs  of  Jerusa- 
lem.^ It  was  in  this  general  massacre  that,  according  to 
a Jewish  tradition,  of  which,  however,  there  is  no 
trace  either  in  the  sacred  books  or  in  Josephus,  the 
Martyrdom  g^oat  Propliet  of  the  time,  Isaiah,  now  nearly 
ofisaiah.  ninety  years  old,  was  cruelly  slaughtered.  The 
story,  as  given  in  the  Talmud,^  brings  out  an  aspect  of 
Isaiah’s  mission  not  altogether  alien  to  the  authentic 
representations  of  it.  It  is  the  never-ending  conflict 
between  the  letter  and  the  spirit.  The  King,  as  if 
entrenching  himself  behind  the  bulwark  of  the  law, 
charges  the  Prophet  with  heresy.  Moses  had  said,  ^^No 
man  shall  see  God’s  face  and  live.”  Isaiah  had  said, 
I saw  the  Lord.”  ® Moses  had  said,  The  Lord  is 
‘^near.”  Isaiah  had  said,  ^^Seek  the  Lord  till  ye  find 
him.”  ^ Moses  had  said,  The  number  of  thy  days  will 
I perfect.”  Isaiah  had  said,  I will  add  to  thy  days 
fifteen  years.”  ^ With  a true  sense  of  the  hopeless- 
ness of  a controversy  between  two  wholly  uncongenial 
souls,  the  Prophet  is  represented  as  returning  no  answer 
except  by  the  name  of  God.  The  hollow  cedar-tree  or 
carob-tree,  to  which  he  escaped  for  refuge,  closed  upon 
him.  They  pursued  him,  and  sawed  the  tree  asunder 
with  a wooden  saw,  till  they  came  to  his  mouth.  Then 
the  blood  flowed,  and  he  died. 

With  this  tradition  ® the  author  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  closes  the  roll  of  the  martyrs  of  faith  in  the 
Jewish  history.  It  was  long  received  in  the  earlier 
Christian  Churches.  “ The  mulberry-tree  of  Isaiah  ” 
still  marks  the  alleged  spot  of  the  martyrdom  in  the 

1 Ps.  cxli.  7 (see  Ewald).  ^ Isa.  Iv.  6. 

2 Gemara  on  Jehamoth^  iv.,  quoted  ® Ibid,  xxxviii.  5. 

in  Gesenius,  Jesaia^  i.  11,  12.  ® Heb.  xi.  37. 

* Isa.  vi.  1. 


Iject.  XXXIX. 


HIS  FATE. 


Kedron  valley.  The  day  is  observed  in  the  Greek 
calendar  on  the  6 th  of  July.  In  an  Apocryphal  book^ 
of  the  first  century,  called  the  Ascension  of  Isaiah,  the 
legend  grows  to  vaster  dimensions.  Isaiah  is  there 
represented  as  foretelling  to  Hezekiah  that  Belial  will 
reign  in  the  person  of  his  son,  and  then  restraining 
Hezekiah  from  destroying  Manasseh  in  horror.  He, 
with  the  other  prophets,  Habakkuk,  Micah,  Joel,  and 
his  son  Shear-Jashub,  retired  to  a mountain  near  Beth- 
lehem, and  are  thence  brought  by  the  false  Samaritan 
Prophet  Belkira,  descendant  of  Micaiah’s  enemy  Zede- 
kiah,  on  the  charge  of  having  called  Jerusalem  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah.  With  a blaze  of  Christian  predictions 
and  vision,  he  ascends  to  heaven,  and  his  end  thus 
becomes  in  the  kingdom  of  Judah,  what  that  of  Elijah 
had  been  in  the  kingdom  of  Israel.  But,  in  fact,  the 
contrast  of  these  legends  with  the  silence  of  all  authen- 
tic records  on  the  death  of  the  illustrious  Prophet,  is  one 
of  the  best  rebukes  to  the  natural  craving  for  signs  and 
wonders.  We  see  what  the  popular  sentiment  of  the 
Church  has  required.  We  see  with  how  stern  a sim- 
plicity the  Sacred  history  has  denied  itself 

The  variations  respecting  the  fate  of  Manasseh  him- 
self are  more  complicated.  In  the  Jewish  Church  his 
name  was  stamped  with  peculiar  infamy.  If  a noble 
name  had  to  be  replaced  by  an  odious  one,  that  of  Ma- 
nasseh was  substituted.^  His  life  in  the  Book  of  Kings 
closes  without  any  relieving  trait.  It  was  considered  as 
the  turning-point  of  Judah’s  sins.  The  doom  was  then 
pronounced  irreversible  by  any  subsequent  reforms.® 
He  was  one  of  the  three  Kings  who  had,  according  to 
the  Jewish  tradition,  no  part  in  the  life  to  come, — 

> See  Gesenius,  Jesaia,  i.  46-55.  3 2 Kings  xxiv.  3,  4 ; Jcr.  xv.  4. 

2 Judg.  xvili.  30.  See  Lecture  XIIL 

TOL.  II.  36 


546 


MANASSEH. 


Lect.  XXXIX 


Jeroboam,  Ahab,  Manasseh.  Amon,  his  son,  was  a coiin- 
Amon.  terpart  of  himself.  Both  were  buried  in  a sep- 
S42-640.  ulchre  of  their  own,  outside  the  city,  in  the 
garden  of  Uzza,  called,  it  may  be,  from  the  son  of  Abina- 
dab,  who  had  perished  beneath  the  walls  of  Jerusalem, 
on  the  first  entrance  of  the  ark.^ 

But,  though  not  in  the  regular  narrative,  there  was 
Repentance  recoixled  in  the  sayings  of  Hozai,^  and  there  is 

of  Manas-  t i /-n 

Beh.  still  preserved  in  the  Chronicles,  a gleam  of 
returning  hope  even  for  Manasseh.  Although  the  great 
Assyrian  invasions  ceased  with  the  fall  of  Sennacherib, 
there  is  an  abrupt  and  solitary  statement  of  an  invasion 
by  Esarhaddon  his  successor,  perhaps  in  connection  with 
the  settlement  of  the  Cuthman  colony  in  Samaria.  His 
officers,  either  by  surprise  or  treachery,  captured  the 
King  and  his  brothers,  and  carried  them  off  to  Babylon, 
now  rapidly  rising  in  importance,  though  still  subject  to 
Assyria,^  and  for  the  first  time  the  residence  of  an  Assyr- 
ian King.  Out  of  this  brief  and  imperfect  narrative 
rose  afterwards  the  detailed  story  of  his  imprisonment, 
of  his  repentance,  and  of  his  wonderful  escape  from 
prison.  A Greek  Prayer  of  Manasseh  ” still  remains. 
Although  not  admitted  into  the  secondary  books  of  the 
canon  by  the  Church  of  Borne,  it  received  the  sanction 
of  the  Apostolical  Constitutions,  has  been  adopted  by 
the  Lutheran  and  Anglican  Churches  in  their  apocry- 
phal books,  and  by  its  bold  and  frank  theology  won  the 
notice  of  Bishop  Butler.^  However  we  reconcile  these 

1 2 Kings  xxi.  18,  26.  See  Lecture  xxxiii.  18;  (2)  by  the  coincidence 

XXIII.  ■with  the  Babylonian  residence  of 

2 Extraordinary  as  is  the  omission  Esarhaddon  (see  Rawlinson’s  Barnp- 

of  the  captivity  of  Manasseh  in  2 ton  Lectures,  114);  (3)  by  the  pos 
Kings  xxi.  17,  the  account  of  it  in  2 sible  allusion  to  it  in  2 Kings  xx  18. 
Chr.  xxxiii.  11-13  is  confirmed  (1)  3 2 Chr.  xxxiii.  11. 

by  the  reference  to  Hozai,  2 Chr.  ^ Analogy,  2,  ah.  b. 


HIS  REPENTANCE. 


547 


Lsct.  XXXIX. 

traditions  with  the  older  narrative,  they  are  valuable  ^ 
containing  the  practical  expression  of  the  doctrine 
already  prominent,  though  remarkable  from  its  contrast 
with  the  general  “hardness”  of  the  Old  Dispensation, - 
that  the  Divine  mercy  far  exceeds  the  Divine  ven- 
geance; and  that  even  from  the  darkest  reprobation  the 
free-will  of  man  and  the  grace  of  God  may  achieve  a 
deUverance.  If  Manasseh  could  be  restored  there  was 
no  one  against  whom  the  door  of  repentance  and  res- 
titution was  finally  closed. 

As  the  martyr  age  of  Israel  had  produced  the  peculiar 
teaching  of  Elijah,  so  the  martyr  age  o ^ ® 
left  itt  traces  in  the  peculiar  tun.  Irenceferth  ■ 
given  to  its  own  Prophetical  literature 
Lganthe  first  distinct  indications  of  ' 

grew  stronger  and  stronger  till -it  reached  its  highest 
point  in  Christianity,  that  the  suffering  of  the  righteous 
is  not  a mark  of  God’s  displeasure;  and  almost  as  a 
necessary  consequence,  that  there  is  a e ^ 
beyond  this  scene  of  darkness  and  injustice.  N°^ere 
again  do  we  meet  the  gloomy  view  of  death  that  we 
found  in  the  Psalm  of  Hezekiah.  From  this  time  for- 
ward the  idea  of  a suffering  Messiah  was  (to  say  the 
least)  rendered  possible.  The  doctrine  that  length  of 
days  must  be  regarded  as  a sign  of  Divine 
have  received  a fatal  blow  in  the  experience  that  the 
worst  of  all  the  Kings  of  Judah  had  the  longest  reign, 

feelings  are  summed  up  in  the  Prophet 
Habakkuk.  Both  by  the  legend  which  has 
attached  itself  to  his  name,"  and  by  the  in- 


I Ewald  (lil.  670,  671)  gives  this 
late  to  Ps.  cxli.,  xvi.,  xc.,  the  Book 
i)f  Job,  and  Isa.  liii. 


2 Bel  and  the  Dragon,  33-33. 


548 


MANASSEH. 


Lect.  XXXIX 


ternal  evidence  of  his  writings,  he  must  have  lived  j 
under  the  impressions  of  the  age  immediately  preceding ) 
the  dissolution  of  the  kingdom,  and  if,  as  is  probable,  | 
somewhat  later  than  this  period,  yet  deriving  his  ex-  j 
perience  from  it.  He,  more  than  any  other  of  the! 
Prophets,  represents  the  perplexities,  not  of  the  nation, 
but  of  the  individual  soul  — the  peculiar  trial  which 
tormented  so  many  exalted  spirits  at  his  time.  He, 
more  than  any  other,  has  furnished  to  the  Christian 
Apostle  the  doctrine  which  forms  the  key-note  of  the 
three  Epistles  to  the  Romans.^  the  Galatians,  and  the 
Hebrews.  From  this  — its  first  appearance  in  the 
Prophets  — may  be  best  learned  the  original  and  most 
comprehensive  signification  of  Justification  by  Faith. 
He  saw  with  grief  the  increasing  contrast  of  sin  and 
prosperity,  innocence  and  suffering.  Whoever  had  seen 
or  heard  of  the  tyranny  of  Manasseh  — the  luxury  and 
selfishness  of  the  nobles  — the  poor  neglected — ^the 
Prophets  persecuted  — during  these  last  agonies  of  the 
kingdom  of  Judah,  might  well  be  provoked  into  the 
sceptical,  yet  confiding,  prayer : 0 Lord,  how  long 

shall  I cry,  and  thou  wilt  not  hear  ? and  cry  unto  thee 
out  of  violence,  and  thou  wilt  not  save  ? Why  dost 
" thou  show  me  iniquity,  and  cause  me  to  behold  griev- 
“ance?  Thou  art  of  purer  eyes  than  to  behold  evil, 
and  canst  not  look  on  iniquity : wherefore  lookest 
thou  upon  them  that  deal  treacherously,  and  boldest 
Thy  tongue  when  the  wicked  devoureth  the  man  that 
^Hs  more  righteous  than  he  ? And  makest  men  as  the 
fishes  of  the  sea,  as  the  creeping  things,  that  have  no 
^ ruler  over  them  ? ” ^ 

1 Hab  ii.  4,  quoted  in  Rom.  i.  17  ; phrase  itself  see  Professor  Lightfbot, 
lial.  iii.  11  ; Heb.  x.  38.  For  the  On  the  Galatians,  149. 


UCT.  XXXIX. 


HABAKKUK. 


549 


He  retires  into  himself ; he  mounts  above  the  world 
to  gain  a calmer  and  loftier  view ; he  stands  upon  his 
watch  and  sits  upon  his  tower.^  Like  Zephaniah  the 
Divine  watcher  — like  Elijah  at  Horeb  — like  Elisha  on 
his  tower  by  the  Jordan  — like  Isaiah  when  he  heard 
the  cry,  Watchman,  what  of  the  night?”  he  waits  to 
see  what  the  Divine  answer  to  his  doubts  would  be.  At 
last  it  comes.  It  comes  after  long  delay.  The  vision 
is  yet  for  an  appointed  time,  but  at  the  end  it  shall 
“ speak.”  It  comes  wrapt  in  contradictions  — tarry- 
“ ing,  and  yet  not  tarrying.”  He  was  to  write  the  vision 
plainly  on  tablets,  and  not  to  be  disappointed  by  its 
delay,  or  bewildered  by  its  ccmtradictions.  Behold  he 
whose  heart  is  lifted  up  within  him  shall  not  have  his 
course  smooth  before  him.  But  the  just  shall  live  by 
“ his  faith.”  ^ That  brief  oracle  inspires  Habakkuk  with 
new  life.  He  had  waited  in  fear  for  the  Divine  mes- 
sage ; his  lips  had  quivered  at  the  voice,  his  bones  were 
consumed,  his  whole  being  troubled.^  But  as  his  fear 
melts  into  hope,  the  Prophet  seems  to  be  transformed 
for  the  moment  into  the  Psalmist ; the  ancient  poetic 
fervor  of  Deborah  is  rekindled  within  him ; the  great 
days  of  old  rise  before  him ; ^ and  in  that  last  lyrical  out- 
burst of  Hebrew  poetry,  the  wild  struggle  is  at  length 
calmed ; a deep  peace  settles  down  over  the  close  of  the 
life  which  had  begun  in  such  a tempest  of  doubt  and 
agitation.  Although  the  lig-tree  shall  not  blossom, 
neither  shall  fruit  be  in  the  vines ; although  the 
labour  of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and  the  fields  yield  no 
“ food  ; although  the  flocks  be  cut  off  from  the  fold,  and 
there  shall  be  no  herd  in  the  stall ; ” yet  the  Divine 
joy  in  his  breast  is  inextinguishable.  His  last  strain  is 

1 Hab.  ii.  1.  3 Hab.  iii.  16. 

2 Ibid.  ii.  3,  4 (Heb.).  Ibid.  iii.  2-15. 


650 


JOSIAH. 


Lect.  XXXIX 


as  of  a second  David,  leaping  from  crag  to  crag  like  the 
free  gazelle/  in  a strength  mightier  than  his  own. 

Whatever  be  the  date  or  precise  fulfilment  of  these 
josiah.  hopes  of  Habakkuk,  it  is  certain  that  in  the  ac- 
640-60*9.  cession  of  the  grandson  of  Manasseh  a better 
day  dawned  upon  the  Church  of  Judah.  The  popular 
election  ^ which  placed  Josiah  on  the  throne,  of  itself 
marks  some  strong  change  of  public  feeling.  There 
was  also  a circle  of  remarkable  persons  in  or  around  the 
Palace  and  Temple,  who,  possibly  driven  together  by 
the  recent  persecutions,  had  formed  a compact  band, 
which  remained  unbroken  till  the  fall  of  the  monarchy 
itself.  Amongst  these  the  most  conspicuous  at  this  time 
were  Shaphan  the  secretary,  Hilkiah  the  High  Priest, 
and  Huldah  the  Prophetess,  who,  with  her  husband 
Shallum,  himself  of  the  Priestly  race,  and  keeper  of  the 
royal  wardrobe,  lived  close  by  the  Temple  precincts.^ 
Within  this  circle,  the  King  had  grown  up,  with  another 
youth,  destined  to  be  yet  more  conspicuous  than  the 
King  himself,  — the  Prophet  J eremiah.  It  was  by  the 
joint  action  of  this  group  that  a discovery  was  made 
which,  if  we  could  but  unravel  its  whole  mystery,  would 
throw  more  light  on  the  history  of  sacred  literature  than 
any  other  event  under  the  monarchy,  and  which,  even 
in  the  obscure  form  in  which  we  now  discern  it,  precip- 
itated the  great  reaction  of  Josiah,  and  colored  the 
whole  teaching  of  his  age.  Eighteen  years  had 
passed  before  the  King  entered  on  the  work 
which,  from  the  various  influences  which  it  represented, 
and  from  its  unexpected  and  welcome  appearance,  was 

1 Hab.  iii.  17-19.  Verse  19  is  taken  3 2 Kings  xxii.  14.  “ In  the  second 

from  Ps.  xviii.  33.  fortification  of  the  city,”  translated 

2 2 Kings  xxi.  24 ; 2 Chr.  xxxiii.  “ in  the  college,”  see  Thenius,  ad  loo 


Lrct.  XXXIX. 


HIS  REFORMATION. 


551 


to  make  his  remembrance  like  the  composition  of  the 
perfume  that  is  made  by  the  art  of  the  apothecary ; 
“ sweet  as  honey  in  all  mouths,  and  as  music  at  a ban- 
" quet  of  wine.”  ^ The  Temple  during  the  previous 
reign  had  fallen  into  a state  of  neglect  such  that,  as  in 
the  time  of  Joash,  a complete  repair  had  become  neces- 
sary. On  this  occasion,  however,  the  King  and  the 
Priesthood  acted  in  entire  harmony.  Suddenly,  Discovery 
under  the  accumulated  rubbish  or  ruins  of  the  of  the  Law. 
Temple  (as  it  would  seem),  the  High  Priest  discovered 
a roll  containing  the  Book  ^ of  the  Law.” 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  exact  nature  of  this 
document,  two  points,  and  two  alone,  are  clear.  First,  it 
was  as  complete  a surprise  as  if  the  Book  had  never 
been  known  before.  During  the  troubles  of  the  reign 
of  Manasseh,  there  is  no  proof  of  its  destruction  Dur- 
ing the  previous  reigns,  with  two  or  three  doubtful  ex- 
ceptions, there  is  no  proof  of  its  existence.  David. 
Solomon,  Asa,  and  Jehoshaphat  had  lived  in  constant, 
and  apparently  unconscious,  violation  of  the  ordinances 
which  came  home  with  such  force  to  Josiah.  Whether 
it  were  written  now  or  ages  before,  the  revolution  in 
the  mind  of  the  discoverers  was  the  same.  Like  the 
revival  of  the  Pandects  at  Amalfi,  like  the  revival  of  the 
Hebrew  and  Greek  text  of  the  Bible  at  the  Eeforma- 
tion,  the  sudden  republication  of  the  sacred  Book  of  the 
Constitution  amounted  almost  to  a new  revelation. 

Secondly,  whatever  other  portions  of  the  Pentateuch 
may  have  been  included  in  the  roll,  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  the  remarkable  work  to  which  the  Greek 


I Ecclus.  xlix.  1.  teronomy,  are  well  stated  in  Dean 

3 The  facts  stated  in  the  text  are  Milinan’s  History^  i.  389  ; for  its  be- 
such  as  are  admitted  by  all.  The  ing  the  whole  Pentateuch,  in  Ewali; 
vguments  for  the  book  being  Deu-  iii.  699. 


JOSIAH. 


Lect.  XXXI X 


translators  gave  the  name  of  the  Second  Law  ” ^ (Deu- 
teronomy) occupied  the  chief  place.  The  duties  of  the 
Prophetic  order,  the  duties  of  the  King,  the  necessity 
of  political  and  religious  unity,  the  prohibition  of  high 
places,  the  extreme  severity  against  idolatrous  practices, 
the  blessings  and  curses  pronounced  on  obedience  and 
disobediance  to  the  Divine  precepts,  are  all  peculiar  to 
Deuteron-  Dcutcronomy,  and  either  applied  or  were  di- 
omy.  rectly  applicable  ^ to  the  evils  which  Josiah 
was  called  to  reform.  There  was  a still  higher  purpose 
which  the  Second  Law  ” served,  a still  nobler  spirit  in 
which  Moses  might  be  said  to  have  risen  again  in  the 
days  of  Josiah,  to  promulgate  afresh  the  code  of  Sinai. 
Now,  for  the  first  time,  the  Love  of  God,  as  the  chief 
ground  of  His  dealings  with  His  people  — the  love 
towards  God  as  the  ground  of  their  service  to  Him  — 
the  spiritual  character  and  free  choice  of  that  service  ® 
— were  urged  on  the  nation  with  all  the  force  of  Divine 
and  human  authority.  Fully  to  bring  out  this  aspect 
of  the  Mosaic  law  was  reserved  for  a greater  than 
Josiah,  — that  other  youth  of  whom  we  spoke,  his  con- 
temporary Jeremiah ; and  yet  more  completely  for  a 
Greater  either  than  Josiah  or  Jeremiah,  to  whom  the 
Book  of  Deuteronomy  was  amongst  the  chief  weapons 
which  He  deigned  ^ to  'use  from  the  ancient  Scriptures, 
and  who,  beyond  even  Jeremiah,  corresponded  to  the 
Second  Moses,  of  whom  that  book  spoke. 

1 The  argument  here  remains  the  2 Deut.  xii.  2 ; xvi.  21,  22 ; xvii. 
same,  whether  the  Book  of  Deuter-  18;  xviii.  10;  xxill.  17,  18,  &c. 
onomy,  in  its  present  shape,  was  of  a 3 Ibid.  vi.  4-9;  vii.  6-11;  x.  12- 
^ng  anterior  date  (as  Dean  Milman,  15;  xlx.  9 ; xxx.  6-20. 

208,  209,  215),  or  written  in  the  time  **  Matt.  iv.  4,  7,  10;  John  v.  46 
of  Manasseh  (as  Ewald,  hi.  683),  or  Comp.  Deut.  viii.  3;  vi.  13,  16;  xviii 
by  Jeremiah  himself  (as  Bishop  Co-  15-22. 
lenso,  On  the  Pentateuch^  Part  8,  p. 
vii.). 


Lect.  XXXIX. 


HIS  REFORMATION. 


663 


But  for  the  moment  it  was  not  the  Prophet,  but  the 
King,  who  took  his  stand  on  the  newly  dis-  josiah’s 
covered  law.  To  him  it  was  communicated  by 
the  Secretary  Shaphan.  By  him  it  was  recited  aloud 
from  end  to  end  to  an  immense  concourse  assembled  in 
the  court  of  the  Temple,  in  which  every  order  of  the 
State,  Priests  and  Prophets,  no  less  than  nobles  and 
peasants,  heard  the  new  revelation  from  the  lips  of  the 
Royal  Reformer,  as  he  stood  erect,  leaning  against  the 
pillar,^  at  the  entrace  of  the  inner  court,  beside  the 
sacred  laver,  himself  the  new  Lawgiver  of  his  people. 

Within  the  limits  prescribed,  the  Reformation  of 
Josiah  now  began.  It  was  inaugurated  by  one  of  those 
national  vows  or  covenants  which  were  in  the  monarchy 
what  the  vows  of  individuals  had  been  in  the  earlier 
stages  of  the  nation.  This  was  followed  by  a Passover, 
such  as  even  Hezekiah  had  not  been  able  to  celebrate 
— such  as  had  not  been  celebrated  as  far  back  as  the 
first  foundation  of  the  kingdom.  The  Pagan  worship 
was  uprooted  with  the  same  punctilious  care  as  that 
with  which,  during  the  Paschal  season,  the  houses  of 
Israelites  were  to  be  cleansed  from  every  morsel  of 
leaven.^  Every  instrument  or  image,  if  of  wood,  was 
burnt ; if  of  metal  or  stone,  was  shattered  to  pieces  and 
ground  to  powder.  The  ashes  were  carried  beyond  the 
territory  of  Judah,  or  throwm  on  the  numerous  graves 
along  that  vast  cemetery,  the  necropolis  of  the  glen  of 
the  Kedron.  Then  fell  in  rapid  succession  the  houses 
of  those  who  ministered  to  the  licentious  rites  close  by 
the  Temple,  and  the  sanctuaries  that  stood  just  outside 
the  gates  of  Jerusalem.  The  wooden  chariots  conse- 

* 2 Kings  xxiii.  3.  So  Mahomet  at  Cordova  had  his  own  special  pulpit 
leaned  first  against  a palm-tree  and  in  the  great  mosque, 
ihen  against  a pillar;  so  the  Khalif  2 2 Chr.  xxxv.  1-19. 


654  JOSIAH.  Lect.  XXXIX  jl 

crated  to  the  Sun,  the  brazen  altars  planted  by  Ahazl 
and  Manasseh  in  different  parts  of  the  Temple  disap- 
peared. Everywhere,  as  by  a kind  of  exorcism,  he 
desecrated  the  sanctuaries  of  the  High  Places,  especially  !| 
those  in  the  valley  of  Hinnom  and  on  Mount  Olivet,  by  1 
heaping  upon  them  the  bones  of  the  dead.^  Even 
beyond  the  limits  of  Judah  his  zeal  extended  to  the  old 
Israelite  sanctuaries  of  Bethel  and  Samaria.  Thither  he 
came  as  the  long-expected  deliverer,  foretold  by  Iddo  | 
the  seer.^  A terrible  vengeance  followed  on  those  who 
had  ministered  at  these  shrines.  Those  that  he  still 
found  alive  were  executed  upon  their  own  altars.®  Of 
those  who  were  dead,  the  bones  were  dug  up  (with  the 
one  exception  of  the  Prophet  of  Bethel,  whose  memory 
was  still  preserved  on  the  spot)  and  thrown  upon  the 
sites  of  the  altars  which  they  had  once  served. 

We  cannot  doubt  that  the  sanguinary  acts  of  Josiah, 
His  vio-  than  of  Elijah  and  of  Jehu,  are  con- 

lence.  demned  by  Him  in  whom  was  fulfilled  the 
spirit  of  the  true  Deuteronomy,  the  Kevived  Law,  which 
the  impetuous  King  carried  out  only  in  its  external 
observances,  and  by  its  own  hard  measures.  It  was  the 
first  direct  persecution  that  the  kingdom  of  Judah  had 
witnessed  on  behalf  of  the  True  Eeligion.  Down  to 
this  time  the  mournful  distinction  had  been  reserved 
for  the  half-pagan  King  Manasseh.  But  cruelty  had 
here,  as  in  all  like  cases,  provoked  a corresponding 
cruelty ; and  the  reformation  of  Josiah,  if  from  his  youth 
and  his  zeal  it  has  suggested  his  likeness  to  our  Edward 
VI.,  by  its  harsher  features  encouraged  the  rough  acts 
which  disfigured  so  many  of  the  last  efforts  of  that  and 
other  like  movements  of  the  Christian  Church. 


2 Kings  xxiii.  4-14. 


3 2 Kings  xxiii.  20. 


Lkct.  XXXIX. 


HIS  REFORMATION. 


555 


It  was  also  a violation  of  the  sanctity  ^ of  the  sepul- 
chre almost  without  precedent  in  the  Jewish  history. 
The  disinterment  of  the  Kings  of  Israel  by  hostile 
dynasties  had  occurred  in  the  fury  of  revolutions,  and 
by  characters  odious  even  in  their  own  times  for  fierce- 
ness and  violence.  But  a Jewish  Prophet^  had  already 
denounced  the  savage  practice  in  a neighboring  king- 
dom, as  a hatred  ” (if  we  may  use  the  words  in  which 
a Christian  commentator  has  finely  amplified  the  Pro- 
phetic warning)  carried  beyond  the  grave,  which  the 
heathen  too  held  to  be  unnatural  in  its  implacableness 
and  uncharitableness  — a hatred  which  is  a sort  of 
" impotent  grasping  at  eternal  vengeance  — hatred 
which,  having  no  power  to  work  any  real  vengeance, 
^^has  no  object  but  to  show  its  hatred.”  A condemna- 
tion too  strong,  indeed,  for  the  imperfect  and  mixed  acts 
of  those  of  old  time,  like  the  Kings  of  Moab  and  of 
Judah,  but  not  too  strong  for  the  deed  as  seen  in  the 
light  of  a Christian  and  civilized  age. 

But,  in  spite  of  all  this  efibrt,  the  kingdom  of  Judah 
was  doomed.  Perhaps  the  very  vehemence  of  The  Proph- 

• T ^ • 1 • • • /¥>  ets  of  the 

the  attempt  carried  with  it  its  own  meificacy.  time. 
Even  the  traditions  which  invested  Josiah  with  a blaze 
of  preternatural  glory,  maintained  that  in  his  day  the 
sacred  oil  was  forever  lost.  Too  late  is  written  on  the 
pages  even  which  describe  this  momentary  revival.  It 
did  not  reach  the  deeply  seated,  wide-spread  corruption 
which  tainted  rich  and  poor  alike.  Large  as  is  the 

1 Josiah’s  solemn  desecration  of  the  moval  from  this  world  to  be  protected 
graves  of  Prophets  and  Priests  long  from  any  further  ecclesiastical  cen- 
ago  departed  was  pleaded  by  Jus-  sure. 

tinian  and  Theodora  in  the  synod  of  2 Xhe  crowning  crime  of  the  King 
Menas,  and  in  the  Fifth  General  of  Moab  was  that  “ he  burned  the 
Council,  as  a sanction  for  anathema-  bones  of  the  King  of  Edom.”  Amo* 
tizing  the  dead,  who  down  to  that  ii.  1.  See  Dr.  Pusey's  note. 

^me  had  been  thought  by  their  re- 


666 


JOSIAH. 


Lect.  XXXIX 


space  occupied  by  it  in  the  historical  books,  by  the  coi> 
temporary  Prophets  it  is  never  mentioned  at  all. 

Of  these,  the  most  peculiar  to  this  period  is  Zepha- 
niah,  remarkable  as  belonging  to  an  illustrious 
fiimily  tracing  back  its  descent  for  four  genera^ 
tions,  possibly  to  the  King  Hezekiah.^  He  is  the  first 
distinct  herald  of  the  great  catastrophe  which,  step  by 
step,  he  saw  advancing.  He  looks  out,  according  to  the 
full  meaning  of  his  name,  the  Watchman  of  Jehovah,” 
over  the  wide  and  awful  prospect,  in  which  nation  after 
nation  passes  in  review  before  him ; not  mthout  hope 
that  out  of  the  very  absorption  of  the  little  kingdom 
of  Judah  into  the  surrounding  nations,  the  element  of 
good  which  it  contains  may  spread  and  strengthen  it- 
self ; that,  like  the  strange  companions  whom  misery 
makes  one,  they  may  all  be  led  to  call  on  the  name  of 
Jehovah,  and  to  serve  Him  with  one  accord,  shoulder 
to  shoulder.”^  But  still  his  prevailing  and  peculiar 
mission  is  as  the  Prophet  of  the  Judgment.  From  him, 
the  Apocalyptic  vision  of  the  New  Testament  and  the 
Bublirne  Hymn  of  the  Christian  Church  have  borrowed 
their  most  striking  words  and  imagery  : — 

The  day  of  the  Lord  is  at  hand ; 

The  great  day  of  the  Lord  is  near,  is  near  — 

It  hasteth  greatly, 

The  voice  of  the  day  of  the  Lord ; 

The  day  of  the  Lord’s  anger, 

The  day  of  the  Lord’s  anger, 

The  day  of  the  Lord’s  anger. 

That  day  of  wrath,  that  dreadful  day  ; 

A day  of  trouble  and  distress, 

A day  of  wasteness  and  desolation, 

A day  of  darkness  and  gloominess, 

A day  of  clouds  and  thick  darkness, 

A day  of  trumpet  and  alarm 

t Zcph.  i.  1. 


* Zeph.  iii.  7-t 


L*ot.  XXXIX.  INVASION  OS'  THE  SCYTHIANS. 


667 


Against  the  fenced  cities, 

Against  the  lofty  towers.^ 

Of  this  great  day,  however  delayed  for  a time,  twc 
calamities,  in  the  reign  of  Josiah,  were  the  im-  The  inva- 
mediate  precursors.  Tlie  first  was  the  invasion  Scythians, 
of  the  Scythians.  It  was  the  earliest  recorded  634-632. 
of  those  movements  of  the  northern  pop  illations,  hid 
behind  the  long  mountain  barrier,  which,  under  the 
name  of  Himalaya,  Caucasus,  Taurus,  Haemus,  and  the 
Alps,  has  been  reared  by  nature  between  the  civilized 
and  uncivilized  races  of  the  old  world.  Suddenly, 
above  this  boundary,  appeared  those  strange,  uncouth, 
fur-clad  forms,  hardly  to  be  distinguished  from  their 
horses  and  their  wagons,  fierce  as  their  own  wolves 
or  bears,  sweeping  towards  the  southern  regions  which 
seemed  to  them  their  natural  prey.  The  successive 
invasions  of  Parthians,  Turks,  Mongols  in  Asia,  of 
Gauls,  Goths,  Vandals,  Huns  in  Europe,  ^^have,”  it  is 
well  said,  “ illustrated  the  law  and  made  us  familiar 
“ with  its  operations.  But  there  was  a time  in  history 
"before  it  had  come  into  force,  and  when  its  very 
" existence  must  have  been  unsuspected.  Even  since 
" it  began  to  operate,  it  has  so  often  undergone  pro- 
" longed  suspension,  that  the  wisest  may  be  excused 
"if  they  cease  to  bear  it  in  mind,  and  are  as  much 
"startled  when  a fresh  illustration  of  it  occurs,  as  if 
"the  like  had  never  happened  before.”^  No  wonder 
that  now,  when  the  veil  was  the  first  time  rent  asun- 
der, all  the  ancient  monarchies  of  the  south  — Assyria, 
Babylon,  Media,  Egypt,  even  Greece  and  Asia  Minor  — 
stood  aghast  at  the  spectacle  of  these  savage  hordes 

1 Zeph.  i.  7,  14-18;  ii.  1,  2.  The  plied  the  first  words  of  the  hymn 
7ulgate  translation  of  i.  15  has  sup  Dies  Irce,  Dies  ilia. 

2 Rawlinson’s  Anc.  Mon.  ii.  508. 


55S 


JOSIAH. 


Lect.  XXXiX 


rushing  down  on  the  seats  of  luxury  and  power.  It 
must  have  been  about  the  middle  of  Josiah’s  reign 
that  one  division  of  them  broke  into  Syria.  They 
penetrated,  on  their  way  to  Egypt,  as  far  as  the  south- 
ern frontier  of  Palestine,  and  were  then  bought  off 
by  Psammetichus,  and  retired,  after  sacking  the  tem- 
ple’ of  Astarte  at  Ascalon.  One  permanent  trace  of 
their  passage  they  left  as  they  scoured  through  the 
plain  of  Esdraelon.  The  old  Canaanitish  city  of  Beth- 
shan,  at  the  eastern  extremity  of  that  plain,  from  them 
received  the  name  which  it  bore  throughout  the  Ro- 
man empire  in  the  mouths  of  the  Greeks,  Sc?/thopolis^ 
the  city  of  the  Scythians.” 

The  total  omission  of  this  formidable  apparition  in 
the  Books  of  Kings  and  Chronicles  is  a remarkable 
proof  of  the  attenuation,  apparently  increasing  as  it 
approaches  the  end,  of  the  historical  narrative  of  this 
closing  period.  But  from  the  Prophets  we  catch 
glimpses  of  the  inroad  of  some  nomadic  horde,  which 
can  hardly  be  explained  but  by  the  knowledge  acquired 
from  other  sources,  of  these  strange  intruders.  Habak- 
kuk^  perhaps  saw  them  from  his  watch-tower  of  specu- 
lation, galloping  on  their  horses,  terrible  as  themselves 
— both  terrible  as  leopards  or  wolves.  Zephaniah  saw 
them,  as  they  prowled  round  the  sanctuary  of  Ascalon 
and  through  the  cities  of  Philistia.  ^‘The  sea-coast 
shall  be  for  pastures^  and  cisterns  for  shepherds,  and 
folds  for  flocks.”  Jeremiah  from  the  first  moment  of 
his  call  had  seen  in  the  emblem  of  a seething  caldron 
in  the  north  the  sign  of  the  quarter  whence  the  fiery 

1 Herod,  ii.  103-105;  Strabo,  i.  3,  v.  10,  § 14.  See  Rawlinson,  ii. 
16;  Justin,  ii.  3.  See  Ewald,  iii.  516. 

693.  3 Hab.  i.  6-10,  if  the  Chaldarans 

2 Judith  iii.  10;  2 Macc.  xif.  29.  and  Scythians  were  blended  together 
Comp.  Judg.  i.  27  (LXX.)  ; Polyb.  4 Zeph.  ii.  4-6. 


LccM.  XXXIX.  INVASION  OF  THE  SCYTHIANS 


653 


dood  of  desolation^  would  issue,  and  had  raised  the 
warning  cry  to  announce  the  coming  of  the  shepherds 
from  the  North  to  pitch  their  tents  around  Jerusalem., 
— a wild  host  on  horses  of  war,  with  bow  and  spear, 
and  shout  like  that  of  a roaring  sea.  Already  long 
before,^  and  also  long  after,  there  floated  on  the  pro- 
phetic horizon  the  dark  cloud  beyond  the  Caucasus, 
big  with  the  fate  of  the  future  destinies  of  the  world. 
It  was  a storm  always  ready  to  burst,  with  its  discharge 
of  horses  and  horsemen,  of  swords  and  shields,  of 
bows  and  arrows,  of  staves  and  spears,  and  innumer- 
able bands,  horde  succeeding  horde ; a convulsion  which 
should  send  a universal  shudder  through  all  living  creat- 
ures, and  shake  down  the  mountains  and  lay  level 
alike  cliff  and  fortress ; an  enemy  which  could  only 
be  repelled  by  the  combined  forces  of  man  and  na- 
ture, — by  an  overthrow  which  would  pile  up  the 
glens  of  the  Dead  Sea  with  mountains  of  human 
graves,  and  would  furnish  out  a sacrificial  feast  to  all 
the  vultures  and  wild  beasts  of  the  mountains  of 
Israel,  such  as  they  had  never  known  before,  from  the 
carcasses  of  chiefs  and  warriors.^  In  these  tremendous 
forms,  not  without  a Prophetic  sense  of  their  vast 
importance,  was  hailed  the  first  apparition  of  the 
future  fathers  of  the  coming  Northern  world.  Gog 
and  Magog  are  the  primeval  names  which,  now  first 
introduced,  were  revived  in  the  Apocalypse^  as  repre- 
sentatives of  the  vast  barbarian  tribes  which  threat- 
ened the  empire  of  Rome,  as  that  of  Assyria  had  been 

* Jer.  1.  13-15;  vi.  2-5.  Ewald  2 Ezek.  xxxviii.  17,  20. 

supposes  that  their  actual  appearance  3 Ibid,  xxxviii.  1-16  ; xxxix.  1,  9 

before  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  is  de-  * Kev,  xx.  8. 
scribed  in  Psalm  lix.,  which  he  as- 
cribes to  Josiah. 


B60 


JOSIAH. 


Lect.  XXXIX 


threatened  by  the  Scythians  of  old.  Here,  first  in  any 
historic  record,  is  the  only  indication  which  the  Bible 
contains  of  the  name  of  any  modern  European  nation. 

^ , The  mighty  people  of  Russia,^  through  this 
wild  invasion,  has  won  a place  in  the  Sacred 
books.  It  was  reserved  for  the  Christian  Apostle,  still 
perhaps  deriving  his  main  impression  from  this  their 
first  historical  appearance,  to  open  that  prospect  in 
which  even  the  savage  Scythian”  should  claim  his 
place  beside  the  polished  Greek,”  the  Oriental  bar- 
barian,” and  the  inspired  Jew.”^ 

The  second  calamity  of  Josiah’s  reign,  though  con- 
Theinva-  ucctcd  witli  the  first,  came  from  a different 
Necho,  . quarter.  Probably  strengthened  by  the  influx 
B.  c.  609.  northern  nations,  the  Babylonian  power 

was  now  rising  into  an  overwhelming  predominance, 
of  which  the  full  account  belongs  to  that  portion  of 
the  Jewish  history  not  included  in  this  volume.  On 
the  throne  of  Egypt  was  seated  a vigorous  king,  Necho, 
who  wished  to  anticipate  that  growth  by  securing  him- 
self on  the  east  and  north.  Between  these  two  con- 
tending powers  stood  the  kingdom  of  Judah,  now 
enlarged  by  the  accession,  at  least  in  name,  of  the 
Israelite  territory.  The  tendency  to  an  Egyptian  alli- 
ance, which  had  been  denounced  by  Isaiah  in  the  reign 
of  Hezekiah,  now  seems  to  have  been  exchanged  for 
an  opposite  policy,  and  as  Hezekiah  came  across  the 
path  of  Sennacherib  by  attaching  his  fortunes  to  Tirha- 
kah  and  Sethos,  so  Josiah  came  across  the  path  of 
Necho  by  attaching  himself  to  the  King  of  Assyria* 
Either  making  use  of  his  celebrated  fleet,  and  so  landing 

1 liosh  (Ezek.  xxxviil.  2,  3 ; xxxix.  2 (Jol,  iii.  11. 

1),  wrongly  translated  in  A.  V., 

chief’  prince.” 


L*ct.  XXXIX. 


INVASION  OF  NECHO. 


561 


at  Accho,  or  following  the  track  of  his  predecessor 
Psammetichus,  and  coining  up  the  plains  of  Philistia, 
Necho  advanced  through  Palestine  towards  the  passes 
of  Lebanon,  on  his  way  to  the  great  battle-field  of 
Carchemish.  In  the  plain  of  Esdraelon,  the  scene  of 
so  many  combats  in  the  earlier  history  of  Israel,  Josiah 
determined,  with  a rashness  which  appeared  to  be 
against  the  counsels  of  Providence,^  to  stay  the  prog- 
ress of  the  Egyptian  army.  The  encounter  took 
place  near  Megiddo,^  at  an  ancient  sanctuary  of  the 
two  Syrian  gods  Hadad^  and  Kimmon,  on  the  mercantile 
route  from  Damascus  to  Egypt.  No  details  are  given 
of  the  battle.  Everything  is  absorbed  in  the  one  tragi- 
cal event  which  closed  it.  Josiah  wp  in  his  chariot,  but 
disguised,  according  to  the  practice  of  the  royal  fam- 
ilies of  Israel,^  in  moments  of  extreme  emergency. 
The  Egyptian  archers,  such  as  we  see  on  their  monu- 
ments, discharged  a volley  of  arrows  against  him.  He 
fell : he  was  placed  in  his  second  chariot  of  reserve, 
and  carried  to  Jerusalem  to  die,  and  was  buried  in  his 
own  sepulchre,  according  to  the  usage  which  had  pre- 
vailed since  the  time  of  Hezekiah.  So  mournful  a 
death  had  never  occurred  in  the  Jewish  annals.  All 
the  population  of  the  city  and  the  kingdom  attended 
the  funeral.  There  was  an  elegy  over  the  departed 
King,  probably  as  pathetic  as  that  which  David  had 
sung  over  Saul  and  Jonathan.  It  was  by  the  most 
plaintive  of  the  Prophets,  Jeremiah,  who  now  first 
appears  on  the  scene  of  public  acts.  Long  afterwards 
was  that  sad  day  remembered,  both  as  it  Avas  cele- 
brated on  the  field  of  battle  and  at  Jerusalem.  The 

1 2 Chr.  XXXV.  21  ; 1 Esdras  i.  27,  3 Zech.  xii.  11. 

28,  4 2 Chr.  XXXV.  22.  Comp.  1 Kings 

* Herod,  ii.  159 ; 2 Chr.  xxxv.  22.  xxii.  30. 


TOL.  II. 


562 


JO  SI  AH. 


Lect.  XXXIX 


lanieiitation  of  Jeremiah  was  preserved  in  the  memory 
of  the  male  and  female  minstrels,  as  a national  institu- 
tion, even  till  long  after  the  return  from  the  Captivity.^ 
Every  family  shut  itself  up  and  mourned  apart.  In 
every  household  the  men  and  women  mourned  each 
apart  in  their  own  seclusion.^  In  the  prospect  of  the 
heaviest  calamity  that  could  befall  the  nation,  this  was 
the  mourning  which  recurred  to  them,  mourning  as  one 
mourneth  for  his  only  son,  in  bitterness  as  one  that 
is  in  bitterness  for  his  first-born.®  The  widows  were 
innumerable  ; the  childless  mother  was  left  lamenting 
for  her  sons  slain  in  battle;  she  laid  herself  down  tc 
die  ; the  sun  of  her  life  went  down  as  it  were  in  mid- 
day,'^ as  in  the  total  eclipse  of  that  fatal  year. 

Josiah  was  the  last  royal  hero  of  Israel.  With  his 
death  the  history  of  the  Jewish  monarchy  might  end, 
were  it  not  for  one  great  event  and  one  great  person 
that  still  remain,  — the  Fall  of  Jerusalem  and  the 
Prophet  Jeremiah. 

1 2 Chr.  XXXV.  25 ; 1 Esdras  i.  32.  Jer.  xv.  7-9.  (See  Thenius  on  2 

See  Jer.  xxii.  18.  Kings  xxiii.  30.)  The  eclipse  was  on 

2 Zech.  xii.  11-14.  September  30,  b.  c.  610.  (See  Grote'a 

3 Ibid.  xii.  lv\  Greece,  iii.  313.) 

4 This  is  the  probable  allusion  of 


JEREMIAH  AND  THE  FALL  OF 
JERUSALEM. 


LECTUKE  XL 


SPECIAL  AUTHORITIES  FOR  THIS  PERIOD. 

M The  Historical  and  Prophetical  Books. 

JosiAH. 

Jer.  i.— V. ; Zephanlali  and  Habakkuk ; 2 Kings  xxii. — xxlli.  30;  2 Chr 

xxxiv.,  XXXV. 

Jeiioahaz. 

2 Kings  xxIIi.  30-33  (Jer.  xxii.  11) ; 2 Chr.  xxxvi.  1-4. 

Jeiioiakim. 

2 Kings  xxili.  34. — xxiv.  5;  2 Chr.  xxxvi.  4-8.  Jer.  xxvi.  (with  vii. — x.) 
preaching  in  the  Temple.  — xviii.,  xix.,  xx.,  preaching  in  the  Valley 
of  Hinnom  and  the  Temple.  — xlvi.  1-12,  battle  of  Carchemish. — 
xlvii.  Return  of  Necho  through  Philistia.  — xlviii.,  xlix.  Moab  and 
Ammon.  — xxv.  foreign  Nations. — xxxv.  the  Rechabites.  — xxxvi. 
Baruch’s  Recitation.  — xlv.  Baruch’s  despair. 

Jehoiachin. 

Jer  xxii.  the  Three  Kings.  — xxiv.  the  Captives  and  the  Remnant.  — xxix. 
Letter  to  the  Exiles.  — xlix.  34-39,  Elam.  — li.  59-64,  Babylon  (per- 
haps also  Jer.  1.,  II.  58).  — Baruch  i. — v. 

Zedekiah. 

Jer.  xxvii.,  xxviii.  Beginning  of  Revolt. — Zech.  xii. — xiii.  6;  xiv. ; Jer. 
xxxvii.,  xxxiv.  Raising  the  Siege.  — Jer.  xxi.,  xxxviii.,  xxxix.  15-18, 
the  Prison. — Ezek.  viil. — xxiii. ; Jer.  xxxii.,  xxxiii.,  xxxix.  1-14. — 
Ezek.  xxiv.  the  Siege.  — Jer.  xl. — xliv.  Escape.  — Jer.  xlvi.  13-28, 
Obadiah.  — Ezek.  xxv. — xxxiii.  March  on  Egypt. 

II.  Jewish  Traditions  in  Josephus  (Ant.  x.  5-9). 

III.  Illustrations  from  the  Assyrian  and  Egyptian  inscriptions ; collected  in 
Rawlinson’s  Bampton  Lectures^  Lecture  IV.,  and  the  notes  thereon. 

N.  B.  — For  the  arrangement  of  here  placed  in  the  order  of  the  events 
the  chapters  of  Jeremiah,  see  Ewald  to  which  they  refer, 
and  other  commentators.  They  are 


THE  PARTIES  AT  THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


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LECTURE  XL. 


JEREMIAH  AND  THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 

TV’s  are  now  approacliing  a great  catastrophe,  which 
has  been  twice  over  enacted  in  the  history  of  the 
Jewish  people. 

Three  other  like  events  of  parallel  magnitude  have 
been  witnessed;  the  fall  of  Babylon,  as  the  paiiof 
close  of  the  primeval  monarchies  of  the  an- 
cient  world ; the  fall  of  Rome,  as  the  close  of  the 
classical  world;  and,  in  a fainter  degree,  the  fall  of 
Constantinople,  as  the  close  of  the  first  Christianized 
Empire.  But,  in  the  case  of  Jerusalem,  both  its  first 
and  second  destruction  have  the  peculiar  interest  of 
involving  the  dissolution  of  a religious  dispensation, 
combined  with  the  agony  of  an  expiring  nation, 
such  as  no  other  people  or  city  has  witnessed,  such 
as  no  other  people  has  survived,  and,  by  surviving, 
carried  on  the  living  recollection,  first  of  one  and  then 
of  the  other,  for  centuries  after  the  first  shock  was 
over. 

Of  these  two  captures  of  Jerusalem,  the  second  is 
still  far  in  advance,  and  it  is  of  the  first  only  that  we 
have  here  to  speak.  But  it  is  by  bearing  both  in 
mind  that  we  can  best  appreciate  the  various  feelings 
with  which  the  approach  of  the  first  was  regarded, 
and  the  bewilderment  and  confusion  which,  as  the 
current  of  the  history  draws  nearer  and  nearer  to  the 
fatal  whirlpool,  beset  not  merely  the  events  them- 


568 


THE  FALL  OF  JBUUSALEM 


Lbct.  XL 


selves,  but  the  textual  structure  of  the  various  nar- 
ratives and  prophecies  which  record  it. 

By  one  of  those  lightning  flashes,  which  at  times, 
in  the  moments  of  its  thickest  darkness,  reveal  the 
interior  of  Jewish  society,  we  are  admitted,  during 
these  closing  scenes,  to  a closer  view  of  its  several  ele- 
ments in  this  its  latest  crisis,  than  we  have  enjoyed 
since  the  time  of  David.  The  violence  which  had, 
in  the  earlier  period  of  the  divided  kingdom,  character- 
ized the  northern  dynasty,  in  the  reigns  of  Manasseh 
and  Josiah  penetrated  the  fortunes  of  Jerusalem  also. 
It  had  become  a mortal  battle  between  two  fierce  par- 
ties. The  persecution  of  the  Prophets  by  Manasseh 
had  provoked  the  persecution  of  the  idolatrous  Priests 
by  Josiah.  The  mutual  mistrust  which  had  already, 
in  the  time  of  Hezekiah,  broken  up  families  and 
divided  the  nearest  friends,  and  made  a man’s  worst 
enemies  those  of  his  own  household,^  had  now  reached 
the  highest  degree  of  intensity : Every  man  had  to 

‘‘take  heed  of  his  neighbor,  and  suspect  his  brother.”^ 

There  was  the  party  which  may  be  called  the 
Party  of  the  party  of  ^Hhe  Princes,”  — that  body  of  nobles 
p^cer  who,  from  the  time  of  Joash,  perhaps  of 
Rehoboam,  had  leaned  to  the  idolatrous  and  licen- 
tious practices  of  the  early  Kings  of  Judah,  and  who 
held  the  later  Kings  almost  as  puppets  in  their  hands. 
With  them  were  associated  many  of  the  Elders  or 
chiefs  of  the  tribes,  under  whose  auspices  the  poly- 
theism, which  Josiah  had  for  the  moment  extirpated, 
still  continued  to  linger,  even  in  the  courts  of  the 
Temple  itself  At  the  north  gate  of  the  sacred  pre- 
cincts was  a statue  of  Astarte,  and  a wailing-place, 

8 Jer.  ix.  4;  xii.  6.  See  Ewald, 
iii.  711. 


1 Micah  vii.  5,  6. 


Lsct.  XL 


THE  PARTIES 


569 


where,  as  at  the  Phoenician  Byblos,  there  were  women 
howling  over  the  loss  of  the  Syrian  god  Thammuzd 
In  the  subterranean  chambers  underneath  the  Temple 
area  were  fitted  up  chapels  decorated  after  the  Egyp- 
tian fashion,  with  likenesses  of  sacred  animals,  to  which 
incense » was  offered.^  Even  in  the  space  of  the  court 
between  the  porch  and  the  altar,  there  was  a band  of 
high  dignitaries  who  turned  their  backs  on  the  Tem- 
ple, and  paid  their  devotions  eastward  to  the  Sun  as 
he  rose  over  the  Mount  of  Olives.^  The  names  of 
some  of  the  more  determined  of  these  reactionary 
Princes  are  preserved : Pelatiah  the  son  of  Benaiahy 
Jaazaniah  the  son  of  Azur,  and  Jaazaniah  the  son  of 
Shaphan  probably,  also,  Elishama,  the  chief  secre- 
tary of  the  royal  family,  and  his  grandson  Ishmael  — 
who  had  a connection  with  the  court  of  Ammon,  and 
himself  belonged  to  the  royal  family. 

By  the  side  of  these,  perhaps  opposed  to  them, 
perhaps  allied  with  them,  in  that  strange  Party  of  the 

^ , , , . ^ Priests  and 

combination  which  often  brings  together,  for  Prophets, 
purposes  of  political  or  religious  animosity,  parties 
themselves  most  alien  to  each  other,  was  the  great 
body  of  the  Sacerdotal,  and  even  of  the  Prophetic 
order.  There  were  those  who  directly  lent  them- 
selves to  magical  rites,  both  amongst  the  male  and 
female  members^  of  the  Prophetic  schools.  There 
were  also  those  who  clung  with  a desperate  tenacity 
to  the  hope  that  the  local  sanctity  of  Jerusalem  was  a 
sufficent  safeguard  against  all  calamities ; who  repeated, 
with  that  energy  of  iteration®  which  only  belongs  to 
Eastern  fanatics,  the  very  name  of  the  Temple  of  Jeho- 

1 Ezek.  viii.  3-5,  14.  * Ezek.  vlii.  11 ; xi.  1. 

2 Ibid.  viii.  8-12.  5 Ibid,  xiii,  2,  6,  18. 

3 Ibid.  viii.  16.  6 Jer.  vii.  4.  See  Lecture  XXX 


570 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Leot.  XL 


vah  as  an  all-sufficing  talisman;  who  prided  them- 
selves on  the  newly  discovered  treasure  of  the  Law ; ^ 
who  recited  the  old  prophetic  phrases,^  often  care- 
less of  what  they  meant ; who  saw  in  the  city  only  a 
vast  caldron^  constructed  for  their  special  content  and 
enjoyment.  Amongst  these  were  Pashur,  of-  a high 
Priestly  family,  holding  the  office  of  governor  of  the 
Temple,  with  his  son  Gedaliah;  another  Pashur,  with 
his  uncle  Jerahmeel,  high  in  the  favor  of  the  court; 
the  whole  family  of  Shelemiah,  including  his  son  Jehu- 
cal  and  his  grandson  J ehudi ; Seraiah  the  son  of  Aza- 
riah;  and  Irijah  - the  son  of  Shelemiah,  the  son  of 
Hananiah  — Hananiah  himself  being  one  of  the  lead- 
ing Prophets  o^  this  extreme  party. 

In  the  midst  of  these  adverse  influences  was  a pow- 

The  Friends  group,  the  direct  inheritors  of  the  tradi- 

of  Jeremiah,  tions  of  the  reign  of  Josiah.  Hilkiah,  Shar 
phan,  Maaseiah,  and  Huldah,  indeed,  were  passed  away ; 
but  their  friends  or  children  still  remained ; and  the 
families  especially  of  Shaphan  and  Maaseiah  formed 
a powerful  society,  united  by  the  closest  sympathy. 
The  life  of  the  whole  circle  was  the  Prophet  Jere- 
miah, bound  up  by  various  ties  of  kinship  or  friend- 
ship with  almost  all  of  them.  Even  if  his  father 
Hilkiah  was  not  the  High  Priest  of  that  name,  yet 
his  own  Priestly  descent  must  have  brought  them 
into  close  connection.  His  uncle  Shall um  was 
the  husband  of  the  Prophetess  Huldah,  and 
his  friend  Hanameel  was  his  cousin,  their  son.  His 
constant  companion  was  Baruch  the  grandson  of  Maa- 
seiah, and  his  most  powerful  protectors,  Ahikam  and 
Gedaliali,  were  the  son  and  grandson  of  Shaplian. 


Jeremiah. 


1 Jer.  vlli.  8. 

* Ibid,  xxiii.  31,  33. 


3 Ezek.  xi.  3. 


Lacr,  XL 


JEREMIAH. 


571 


Born  in  the  priestly  city  of  Anathoth,  with  the  in- 
fluence of  these  families  round  him,  it  might  well  be 
said  that  he  was  consecrated  to  his  office  even  from 
his  earliest  daysd  His  father  had  received  his  birth 
with  a joy  of  which  the  remembrance  was  long  pre- 
served,^ and  which  strangely  contrasted  with  the  dark 
career  of  his  after  life.  The  faithfid  adherence  of 
these  companions  through  good  report  and  evil,  his 
constant  appeals  to  them  for  help,  the  unexpected 
aid  which,  through  their  intervention,  was  brought  to 
his  rescue,  bring  out  the  fascination  which  he  exercised 
over  them,  and  the  tender  sympathy  which  they  re- 
ceived from  him,  so  as,  more  than  any  other  of  the 
ancient  Prophets,  to  recall  the  great  Apostle,  who 
‘^had  a thousand  friends,  and  loved  each  as  if  he  had 
“ a thousand  souls,  and  died  a thousand  deaths  when 
he  parted  from  them.” 

But  it  might  be  said  of  Jeremiah,  even  more  than 
of  St.  Paul,  that  in  spite  of  these  numerous  hissoH- 
friends,  for  the  greater  part  of  his  mission  he 
‘‘  had  no  man  like-minded  with  him.”  From  the  first 
moment  of  his  call  he  was  alone,  amidst  a hostile 
world.  The  nation  was  against  him.  In  the  day 
when  he  uttered  his  lament  over  Josiah,  he  lost  his 
last  hope  in  the  house  of  Judah.  From  that  hour 
the  charm  of  the  royal  line  of  David  was  broken ; 
the  institution  which  had  of  itself  sustained  the  mon- 
archy had  lost  its  own  vital  power.  The  nobles  were 
exasperated  against  him  by  his  fearless  rebukes  of 
their  oppression  and  luxury.  Most  of  all,  he  was- 
hated  and  cursed  — the  bitterest  trial,  in  every  time  — 
by  the  two  sacred  orders  to  which  he  himself  belonged. 
He  was  one  of  those  rare  instances  in  the  Jewisli  his- 


1 Jer.  i.  5. 


2 If  we  may  take  literally  J<'r.  ,\x.  15. 


672 


JEREMIAH. 


Lect.  XI  j 


tory,  in  which  Priest  and  Prophet  were  combined,  and 
by  a singularly  tragical  fate  he  lived  precisely  at  that 
age  in  which  both  of  those  great  institutions  seemed 
to  have  reached  the  utmost  point  of  degradation  and 
corruption  ; both,  after  the  trials  and  vicissitudes  of 
centuries,  in  the  last  extremity  of  the  nation  of  which 
they  were  the  chief  supports,  broke  down  and  failed. 
Between  the  Priesthood  and  the  Prophets  there  had 
hitherto  been  more  or  less  of  a conflict;  but  now  that 
conflict  was  exchanged  for  a fatal  union  — a wonder- 
ful  and  horrible  thing  was  committed  in  the  land  ; 
the  Prophets  .prophesied  falsely  and  the  Priests  bore 
rule  by  their  means ; and  the  people  loved  to  have 
^^it  so,”^  and  he  who  by  each  of  his  callings  was 
naturally  led  to  sympathize  with  both,  was  the  doomed 
antagonist  of  both,  — victim  of  one  of  the  strongest 
of  human  passions,  the  hatred  of  Priests  against  a 
Priest  who  attacks  his  own  order,  the  hatred  of  Proph- 
ets against  a Prophet  who  ventures  to  have  a voice 
and  a will  of  his  own.  His  own  village  of  Anathoth, 
occupied  by  members  of  the  sacred  tribe,  was  for  him 
a nest  of  conspirators  ^ against  his  life.  Of  him,  first 
in  the  sacred  history,  was  the  saying  literally  ful- 
filled, ^^a  Prophet  hath  no  honor  in  his  own  birth- 
place.”^ 

And,  as  often  has  happened  in  like  case,  the  misfor- 
Hisdoc-  position  was  aggravated  by  the 

trines.  necessity  of  opposing  the  general  current  of 
popular  prejudice,  and  professional  narrowness,  not 
merely  in  its  grosser  forms  of  selfishness  and  super- 
stition, but  in  those  points  where  it  merely  carried 
.to  excess  feelings  which  were  in  themselves  good,  and 

1 Jer.  V.  31;  ii.  8;  vi.  13;  xxiii.  - Jer.  xi.  19,  21. 

11,  S4  ; xxvi.  11.  3 ’Ev  ry  avrov  Tvarpldi,  Luke  Iv.  24 


Lect.  XL. 


ms  DOCTRINES. 


573 


which  had  in  an  earlier  age  been  sanctioned  by  the 
noblest  examples  and  most  fruitful  results.  In  the 
altered  circumstances  of  his  age.  he  could  no  longer 
be  what  Isaiah  had  been  : nay,  that  unshaken  belief 
in  the  inherent  invincible  strength  of  Jerusalem  which 
Isaiah  had  preached,  and  wdiich  the  Prophets  of  his 
time  repeated  after  Isaiah  with  a constant  and  not 
unnatural  confidence,  it  was  the  duty  of  Jeremiah  to 
oppose.  Even  the  yet  diviner  truth  of  the  possibility 
of  restoration  for  the  most  hardened  character,  which 
Isaiah  had  set  forth  in  words  whose  fire  lives  to  this 
day,  was  to  Jeremiah  overclouded  by  the  sense  of 
the  ingrained  depravity  which  seemed  to  have  closed 
up  every  entrance  to  the  national  conscience.  The 
message,  Though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall 

be  white  as  snow ; though  they  be  red  lik«  crimson, 
^Hhey^  shall  be  as  wool,”^  was  exchanged  for  the  de- 
sponding cry,  Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his  skin,  or 
^Hhe  leopard  his  spots  ?”^  The  free-will  of  Isaiah 

and  the  fatality  of  Jeremiah  were  each  true  for  the 
moment,  each  liable  to  exaggeration  by  those  who 
will  not  make  allowance  for  the  effects  of  changed 
circumstances.  There  are  times  when  ancient  truths 
become  modern  falsehoods,  when  the  signs  of  God’s 
dispensations  are*  made  so  clear  by  the  course  of 
natural  events  as  to  supersede  the  revelations  even 
of  the  most  sacred  past.  Jeremiah  saw  his  country, 
not  as  he  wished  and  hoped  it  to  be,  but  as  it  really 
was : he  was  prepared  not  merely  to  admit  as  an 
inscrutable  kite,  but  to  proclaim  as  his  heaven-sent 

1 Isa.  i.  18.  give  to  his  system,  and  recognizes 

2 Jer,  xiii.  23.  Calvin,  with  that  that  it  is  true  of  the  Jews,  not  as  an 
good  sense  which  marks  his  coinmen-  eternal  law  of  reprobation,  but  lonqo 
tary,  rejects  the  support  which  the  peccandi  mu. 

3xaggerated  use  of  this  verse  might 


674 


JLlSEMIAH. 


Lkct.  XL 


message,  that  Jerusalem  was  doomed.  He  was  to 
acknowledge  that  the  Temple,  with  all  its  hallowed 
associations,  was  of  no  avail ; that  the  newly  dis- 
covered Law  had  come  too  late.  In  the  Reformation 
of  Josiah,  which  fills  so  large  a space  in  the  histori- 
cal narrative,  he  took  no  part,  as  though  feeling  it  to 
be  merely  a superficial  cure  that  had  not  probed  the 
deeper  moral  evil  within,  which  he  never  ceases  to 
denounce  and  lay  bare.  He  was  to  look  the  short- 
comings of  his  country  and  his  church  full  in  the 
face,  and  not  shrink  from  accepting  their  extremes! 
consequences.  -When  the  northern  kingdom  fell,  Ho- 
sea’s  hope  could  still  be  sustained  by  the  reflection 
that  Judah  was  safe.  When  Amos  and  Isaiah  attacked 
the  Priesthood  of  Judah,  they  still  felt  that  there 
remained  the  Prophets  on  whom  the  nation  could  faU 
back.  But  when  Jeremiah  mourned  for  Israel,  he  felt 
that  there  was  no  reserve  in  Judah.  And  when  the 
Priesthood  closed  in  hostile  array  around  him,  he  felt 
that,  as  far  as  Jerusalem  was  concerned,  the  Prophets^ 
were  no  supporters.  He  was  himself  the  last  of  those 
gifted  seers,  who  combined  their  Prophetic  teaching 
with  the  active  public  life  of  statesmen  and  coun- 
sellors of  the  nation. 

Against  this  fate,  against  the  whole  land,  against 
the  Kings  of  Judah,  against  the  Princes,  against  the 
Priests,”  against  the  Prophets,  ‘^against  the  people 
of  the  land,”  he  was  to  gird  up  his  loins,  and  arise 
**and  speak  he  was  to  be  the  solitary  fortress,  the 
column  of  iron,  the  wall  of  brass,  fearless,  undismayed, 
unconfounded,  — the  one  grand,  immovable  figure, 
•which  alone  redeems  the  miserable  downfall  of  his 
country  from  triviality  and  shame,  — for  forty  years, 

1 Jer.  xxiii.  9-40;  v.  31.  2 Jer.  i.  17,  18;  xiii.  13. 


Lect.  XL. 


HIS  CHARACTER. 


575 


day  by  day,  at  early  morning,^  standing  to  deliver 
his  mournful  warnings,  his  searching  rebukes,  in  the 
royal  chamber  or  in  the  Temple  court.  He  was  the 
Prophet  of  unwelcome,  unpalatable  Truth,  from  whose 
clear  vision  all  illusions^  had  vanished  away ; in  whom 
the  high  poetic  aspirations  of  former  times  were  trans- 
formed into  the  hard  prose  of  common  life ; yet  a 
prose  which  itself  becomes  more  poetical  than  poetry, 
because  of  its  own  exceeding  tragical  simplicity. 

But  here  another  element  enters  into  his  history, 
which  gives  a yet  deeper  tone  to  its  melan-  Hischarac- 
choly  interest.  For  this  desperate  and  soli- 
tary  career  we  see  no  longer  the  wild  romantic  energy 
of  an  Elijah,  nor  the  royal  air  and  majesty  of  an 
Isaiah.  Of  all  the  Prophets,  Jeremiah  is  the  most 
retiring,  the  most  plaintive,  the  most  closely  com 
passed  with  ordinary  human  weaknesses.  The  cry 
which  he  uttered  as  the  dark  truth  first  broke  upon 
his  young  mind  was  characteristic  of  his  whole  career : 
“ Ah  Lord ! I cannot  speak ; I am  but  a child.”  ^ It 
is  this  childlike  tenderness  which  adds  force  to  the 
severity  of  his  denunciations,  to  the  bitterness  of 
his  grief  His  was  not  one  of  those  stern  charac- 
ters which  bear  without  repining  the  necessary  evils 
of  life.  He  who  was  to  be  hard  as  brass  and  strong 
as  iron,  who  had  to  look  with  unmoved  countenance 
on  the  downward  descent  of  his  country,  yet  longed 
that  his  head  were  waters,  and  his  eyes  a fountain 
'‘of  tears,  that  he  might  weep^  day  and  night  for 
‘Hhe  daughter  of  his  people.”  He  whose  task  it  was 

1 Jer.  XXV.  3.  Comp.  xxxv.  15.  ^ Jer.  i.  6. 

2 See  Bunsen,  Golt  in  der  Ge-  ^ Ibid.  ix.  1.  Comp.  Umbrer't  oa 

IchichtCf  i.  193.  Jeremiah,  p,  xi. 


676 


JEREMIAH. 


Lect.  XL 


to  run  to  and  fro  througb  the  streets  of  Jerusalem, 
like  the  Grecian  sage/  to  see  if  he  could  find  a single 
honest  man,  — to  live,  as  it  were,  in  the  market-place 
as  a butt  of  scorn,^  alike  from  the  religious  and  irrelig- 
ious world,  — he  was,  by  his  own  nature  and  inclination, 
the  Prophet  of  the  desert,  longing  for  a ‘‘lodge®  in 
“ some  vast  wilderness,”  that  he  might  leave  his  people^ 
and  avoid  the  sight  of  their  crimes.  His  constant 
imagery  is  taken  from  those  lonely  regions^  where 
he  would  fain  be  — “ their  bare  hills,  swept  by  the 
“ dry  wind,^  where  there  was  no  human  being,®  nor 
“ bird  of  the  heavens  to  be  seen ; ” where  wolf,  and 
lion,  and  panther  prowled/  where  the  untamable® 
wild  asses  galloped  up  to  the  highest  peaks,  and  snuffed 
up  the  sultry  air ; where  the  heath  ^ grows  on  the 
parched  places,  in  a salt  land,  and  not  inhabited.  He 
stood  apart  from  the  almost  invariable  usage  of  the 
Jewish  Priesthood  by  remaining  in  a life  of  celibacy, 
joining  neither  in  the  common  assemblages  of  mourn- 
ing nor  of  feasting.^®  The  austere  habits  of  the  Arabian 
Rechabites,  even  in  the  crow^ded  streets  of  Jerusalem, 
attracted  his  admiration,^^  and  drew  down  his  emphatic 
benediction.  “ It  was  good  for  him  to  bear  the  yoke 


1 Jer.  V.  1,  2. 

2 Lam.  ill.  14.  62,  63. 

Jer.  \x.  2. 

4 Much  of  this  imagery  might  be 
suggested  by  his  journey  to  Babylon 
(xiii.  1-8),  if  the  burial  of  his  girdle 
by  the  Euphrates  is  to  be  construed 
literally,  and  if  “ Euphrates  ” be  the 
right  reading.  But  both  these  points 
are  doubtful.  The  mention  of  “ the 
cliff'’  (Jer.  xiii.  4)  rather  leans  to 
»ome  spot  in  Palestine. 

5 Jer.  iv.  11  ; xii.  12  (Heb.). 

® Ibid.  iv.  25. 


7 Jer.  V.  6 ; xii.  8. 

8 Ibid.  ii.  24 ; xiv.  6.  “ It  is  a 
characteristic  of  the  wild  ass  to  seek 
the  highest  summits  of  the  mountains, 
and  there  to  stand  cutting  the  blue 
sky  with  its  head  and  ears  erect. 
Their  extraordinary  strength  and 
agility  impels  them  to  do  such  feats. 
They  are  swifter  of  foot  and  wilder 
than  any  beast  that  ranges  the^  up- 
lands.” (Morier.) 

9 Jer.  xvli.  6 ; xlviii.  6. 

10  Ibid.  xvi.  2,  5,  8. 

11  Ibid,  xxxiv.  18,  19. 


L*ct.  XL 


HIS  CHARACTER. 


57T 


even  from  his  youth.  He  sits  alone,  and  keeps  silence, 
crouching  under  his  burden.”^  ^^He  was  led  not  into 
light,  but  into  darkness,”  as  in  the  sepulchral  cham- 
bers of  the  dead.  His  griefs  pierced  like  a flight  of 
arrows^  into  his  soul.  Through  the  chambers  of  his 
innermost  heart  there  is  a shudder.^  He  was  over- 
whelmed mth  despair  at  the  thought  that  he,  the 
gentle,  the  unselfish,  should  have  been  a man  of  war 
and  a man  of  contention  to  the  whole  country ; ^ that 
he  who  had  never  joined  the  assembly  of  the  mockers, 
but  found  his  delight  in  God’s  moral  law,  should  be 
tormented  by  this  perpetual  pain,  this  incurable  wound 
that  refuses  to  be  healed. 


“ The  time  is  out  of  joint ; 0 cursed  spite, 

That  ever  I was  born  to  set  it  right.” 

Such  is  the  burden  of  his  fainting  heart.  He  doubts  as 
to  the  truth  of  God : 0 Lord,  Thou  hast  deceived 

me,  and  I was  deceived.”  “ 0 Lord  Jehovah,  Thou 
hast  greatly  deceived  this  people.”  ^ He  heaps  curses 
on  the  day  of  his  birth,  curses  on  the  innocent  mes- 
senger who  brought  the  news  of  his  birth  : Wherefore 

came  I forth  out  of  the  womb  to  see  labor  and  sorrow, 
“ that  my  days  should  be  consumed  ® with  shame.”  He 
loses  all  cDiifidence  in  himself.  He  feels  that  the  way 
of  man  is  not  in  himself ; that  it  is  not  in  man  that 
walketh  to  direct  his  steps.”  0 Lord,  correct  me  but 
“with  judgment  — not  in  thine  anger,  lest  Thou  bring 
“ me  to  nothing.”  At  times  he  is  stung  beyond  endur- 
ance into  imprecations,  as  fierce  and  bitter  on  his 
country  and  on  his  opponents,®  as  ever  came  from  the 


1 Lam.  Hi.  27,  28,  2,  6. 

2 Ibid.  Hi.  12,  1?. 

^ Jer.  iv.  19  (Ewald). 
4 Ibid.  XV.  10. 


5 Jer.  Iv.  10. 

6 Ibid.  XX.  7,  14-18. 

7 Ibid.  X.  23,  24. 

® Ibid,  xviii.  21  ; xi,  20-23 


VOL.  II. 


37 


57S 


JEREMIAH. 


Lect.  XL. 


lips  of  Deborah  or  David.  At  times  he  condescer.ds  to 
the  meaner  arts  of  secrecy  and  falsehood.^  The  short 
comings  of  the  Prophets  amongst  whom  he  lived  were 
shared  by  himself  Not  even  of  Elijah  can  it  be  said 
more  truly,  that  he  was  of  like  passions  with  our- 
selves.” 

It  is  this  deep  despondency ‘and  misery  of  Jeremiah 
that  have  caused  his  name  to  pass  into  a proverb  for 
unavailing  sorrow.  But  there  is  a redeeming  elemeni 
in  his  Prophecies  which  rescues  them  from  the  reproacli 
with  which  this  common  phrase  would  identify  them. 
His  spirit-  There  is  a brighter  aspect  of  his  mission,  which 

ual teach-  i i p o , • • i • 

ing.  makes  itself  felt,  at  times  even  against  his  own 
will,  or  at  least  without  his  own  consciousness.  He  v/as 
set  over  the  nations  and  the  kingdoms,”  not  only  to 
root  out,  pull  down,  destroy  and  throw  down,”  but  also 
to  build  and  to  plant.”  ^ In  a higher  than  in  any 
merely  temporal  sense,  the  constructive  part  of  his 
theology  rose  immediately  from  its  destructive  ele- 
ments. He  was,  as  we  have  seen,  the  last  of  the  Prophet 
statesmen;  he  was  projected  upon  the  world  out  of 
the  failure  of  the  Prophetic  system.  His  heart  within 
him  was  broken  because  of  the  Prophets.”  The 
Lord  was  against  the  Prophets.”  * But  this  brought 
out  more  forcibly  than  ever  the  essence  of  the  Pro- 
phetic spirit  in  the  ruin  of  its  external  framework.  He 
had  no  outward  signs  to  which  to  appeal.  Even  his 
style  never  rises  to  the  finish  or  the  magnificence  of 
Isaiah  or  of  Nahum.  But  this  compels  him  to  appeal 
almost  entirely  to  the  moral  and  spiritual  force  of  his 
Prophetic  messages,  and  these  Prophetic  messages  he 
places  on  their  highest  ground.  First  of  the  Prophets, 

* Jcr.  xxxviii.  25-27.  3 Jer.  xxiii.  9,  10. 

Ibid.  i.  10. 


Lkct.  XL. 


HIS  DOCTRINES. 


579 


he  proclaims  distinctly  what  had  been  more  or  less 
implied  throughout,  that  predictions  were  subject  to 
no  overruling  necessity,  but  depended  entirely  on  the 
moral  state  of  those  to  whom  they  were  addressed ; that 
the  most  confident  assurance  of  blessing  could  be  frus- 
trated by  sin ; that  the  most  awful  warnings  of  calamity 
could  be  averted  by  repentance.^  He  showed  that  the 
most  sacred  words  of  prophecy  might,  by  constant  repe- 
tition, lose  their  meaning  ; that  even  the  very  name  of 
“ the  burden  of  the  Lord,”  which  had  summed  up  the 
burning  thoughts  of  Amos  and  Isaiah,  was  to  be  discon- 
tinued altogether.^  He  showed  to  the  Priests  who 
trusted  in  the  Temple,  that  the  day  was  coming  when 
the  very  fall  of  the  Temple,  the  very  loss  of  the  Ark 
itself,  might  be  considered  a boon.  They  shall  no  more 
say,  the  Ark  of  the  covenant  of  the  Lord ; neither 
shall  it  come  to  mind;  neither  shall  they  remember 
it ; neither  shall  they  visit  it ; neither  shall  that  be 
^^done  any  more.”^  The  reformation  of  Josiah  he 
notices  only  to  speak  of  the  uselessness  of  the  much- 
vaunted  discovery  of  the  sacred  books.  How  do  ye 
say.  We  are  wise,  and  the  law  of  the  Lord  is  with  us? 
Lo,  certainly  in  vain  hath  He  made  it ; the  fear  of  the 
scribes  is  in  vain.”  ^ Yet,  if  we  may  trust  the  argu- 
ments by  which  the  Book  of  Deuteronomy  has  been 
connected  with  that  revolution,  a peculiar  interest 
accrues  to  the  Prophet,  who  stands  to  Deuteronomy 
almost  in  the  same  relation  as  that  book  stands  to  the 
rest  of  the  Pentateuch.  Jeremiah  is,  above  everything 
else,  the  Prophet  of  the  Deuteronomy — of  the  Second 
liaw ; ” not  merely  from  the  close  connection  of  out- 
ward style,  but  because  he  brings  out  more  clearly  than 


1 Jer.  xvili.  7,  8. 

9 Ibid,  xxiii.  36-38. 


3 Jer.  iii.  16  ; vii.  4. 

4 Ibid.  viiL  8. 


JEREMIAH. 


Leot.  XL 


m 

any  other  Prophet  the  spiritual  lessons  of  that  the  most 
spiritual  of  all  the  Mosaic  books,  and  looks  forward  to 
the  time  when  his  people  shall  be  guided  by  a higher 
than  any  rnerel}^  external  law.  It  is  to  Jeremiah,  even 
more  than  to  Isaiah,  that  the  writers  of  the  Apostolic 
age  ^ look  back,  when  they  wish  to  describe  the  Dispen- 
sation of  the  Spirit.  His  predictions  of  the  Anointed 
King  are  fewer  and  less  distinct  than  those  of  the  pre- 
ceding Prophets.  But  he  is  the  Prophet  beyond  all 
others  of  the  New  Testament  ” the  New  Covenant,” 
— which  first  appears  in  his  writings.  As  in  the  one 
glance  which  he  casts  forward  to  the  Coming  Ruler,  it 
is  as  the  Just  King,  the  personification  of  Divine  Jus- 
tice,^ in  contrast  to  the  weak  and  wayward  rule  of  the 
unhappy  Princes  that  closed  the  line  of  Judah,  so  amidst 
the  degradation  of  the  Prophetic  and  Priestly  offices,  he 
consoles  himself  with  the  thought  that,  whilst  even  the 
Divine  covenant  of  the  ancient  Law  is  to  be  abolished, 
there  is  to  be  a new  covenant,  a new  understanding 
between  God  and  man ; a new  Law,  more  sacred  even 
than  Deuteronomy,  written  not  in  any  outward  book, 
or  by  any  inspiration  of  words  and  letters,  but  in  the 
hearts  and  spirits  of  those  who  will  be  thus  brought 
into  union  with  God.  And  the  knowledge  of  this  new 
truth  shall  no  longer  be  confined  to  anj^  single  order  or 
caste,  but  all  shall  know  the  Lord  from  the  least  unto 
•Hhe  greatest.”^  With  this  conviction,  there  was  no 
bound  to  the  extent  of  his  hopes.  In  the  letter  they 
have  been  but  scantily  and  imperfectly  realized,  but  in 
the  spirit  they  have  been  fulfilled  more  widely  than 
even  he  ventured  to  predict;  for  they  were  founded  on 

1 Ileb.  viii.  8-13  ; x.  16,  17.  The  other  allusions  are  very  slight, 

* Jer.  xxiii.  5,  6;  xxxiii.  15,  16.  Jer.  xxx.  9;  xxxlii.  17. 

3 Jer.  xxxi.  33,  34. 


Lkct.  XL. 


HIS  DOCTRINES. 


581 


the  eternal  law  of  moral  progress  and  spiritual  legen- 
aration,  more  fixed  than  that  which  giveth  the  sun  for 
a light  by  day,  the  ordinances  of  the  moon  and  stars 
‘^for  a light  by  night,  which  divide th  the  sea  when  its 
^Svaves  roar.”^  The  eulogy  of  the  Law  in  the  119th 
Psalm,  in  the  peculiar  rhythm  which  marks  the  poetry 
of  this  age  of  the  Jewish  Church,  is  but  a prolonged 
expression  of  Jeremiah’s  hope,  the  transfiguration  of  the 
ancient  Mosaic  system  in  the  sunset  of  the  declining 
monarchy,  before  the  night  which  will  be  succeeded  by 
a more  glorious  dawn.  I see  that  all  things  come  to 
“ an  end  ; but  thy  commandment  is  exceeding  broad.”  ^ 
This  is  the  reward  of  the  truthfulness  of  his  character. 
To  read  in  the  possibilities  of  the  future  a balance  for 
the  difficulties  of  the  present,  was  his  compensation  for 
the  rare  gift  of  seeing  things  as  they  really  were, 
through  no  false  or  colored  medium.  He  stood  ” 
firmly  on  the  old  ways ; ” ^ felt  their  weakness  and 
their  strength,  saw  where  they  failed  and  where  they 
were  solid,  and  therefore  he  was  able  to  look  out,  and 
discern  the  good  way  ” in  which  henceforth  his  church 
and  country  could  walk. 

Such  is  the  outline  of  the  Prophet’s  mission  which  we 
have  now  to  follow  through  the  fall  of  the  Holy  City, 
and  onward  through  the  effects  of  his  teaching  and  his 
life  as  long  as  the  last  echoes  of  that  fall  linger  in  our 
ears. 

The  struggles  of  the  expiring  kingdom  of  Judah  are 
like  those  of  a hunted  animal,  — now  flying,  now  stand- 
ing at  bay,  between  two  huge  beasts  of  prey,  which, 
whilst  their  main  object  is  to  devour  each  other,  turn 


1 Jer.  xxxi.  35.  Comp.  Isa.  xl.  12.  3 Jer.  vi.  16.  (Bacon’s  Essays 

2 Ps.  cxix.  96.  xxiv.) 


582 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lbct.  XLi 


aside  from  time  to  time  to  snatch  at  the  smaller  victim 
that  has  crossed  their  midway  path.  It  was  not  now 
a question  of  independence,  but  of  choice  between  two 
foreign  sovereigns.^  When  the  country  recovered  from 
the  shock  of  Josiah’s  death,  it  found  itself  in  the  grasp 
of  the  Egyptian  Necho.  Jerusalem,^  if  not  actually 
taken  by  him,  was  virtually  in  his  hands,  though  not 
without  a struggle.  Shallum,  the  second  son  of  the 
dead  King,  was  hastily  raised  over  his  elder  brother’s 
head  to  the  vacant  throne.  Like  all  the  Princes  of  this 
period  of  dissolution,  he  took,  perhaps  as  a kind  of 
jehoahaz.  cliarin, . a new  sacred  name  on  his  accession, 
B.  c.  609.  Jeho-Ahaz,  ^Hhe  Lord’s  possession  and,  like 
all  the  Kings  whose  right  was  disputed,  was  anointed  ^ 
with  the  sacred  oil,  as  if  the  founder  of  a new  dynasty. 
In  three  months  he  was  carried  off  to  the  conqueror’s 
camp  in  the  north  at  Riblah.  Riblah  was  the  regular 
outpost  of  those  great  hosts,  whether  from  Egypt  or 
Babylon,^  during  the  whole  of  this  period.  On  the 
banks  of  a mountain  stream,  in  the  midst  of  a vast  and 
fertile  plain,  at  a central  point,  where  across  the  desert 
the  roads  diverge  to  the  Euphrates,  or  along  the  coast, 
or  through  the  vale  of  Coelo-Syria  to  Palestine  and  the 
South,  no  more  advantageous  place  of  encampment 
could  be  imagined.  Thither  first,  a.nd  then  to  Egypt,^ 
the  young  usurper  was  carried  off  Something  there 
had  been  in  his  character,  or  in  the  popular  mode  of  his 
election,  which  endeared  him  to  the  country.  A lamen- 

1 Dean  Milnian  (3d  ed.),  i.  394.  3 o Kings  xxiil.  30. 

2 It  seems  to  me  that  the  argu-  4 Ibid,  xxiii.  33 ; xxv.  20 ; and  see 
ments  for  identifying  Cadytis  (Herod.  Robinson,  Bid.  Res.  iii.  545. 

ii.  159,  iii.  5)  with  Jerusalem  prevail.  ^ 2 Kings  xxiii.  34;  2 Chron 

If  it  be  Gaza  (as  Ewald  and  Ilitzig),  xxxvi.  4. 
hen  its  capture  coincides  with  Jer. 


L*crr.  XL. 


JEHOIAKIM. 


583 


tation,  as  for  his  father,  went  up  from  the  Princes  and 
Prophets  of  the  land  for  the  lion’s  cub/  that  was  learn- 
ing to  catch  his  prey,  caught  in  the  pitfall,  and  led  off 
in  chains  — by  a destiny  even  sadder  than  death  in 
battle.  Weep  not  for  the  dead,  nor  bemoan  him,  but 
weep  sore  for  him  that  goeth  away.”  He  was  the 
first  King  of  Judah  that  died  in  exile.  lie  shall  re- 
“ turn  no  more,  he  shall  return  no  more  to  see  his  native 
country  — his  native  land  ^ no  more.”  His  Jehoiaidm. 

*^  . . . 15.  C. 

elder  brother,  Eliakim,  taking  the  more  sacred  009-599. 
name  of  Jeho-Jakim,^  was  placed  on  the  throne  as  a 
vassal  by  the  Egyptian  King,  and  Palestine  became  a 
mere  province  of  Egypt.  For  a few  years  a temporary 
splendor  remained,  combined  with  the  restoration  of 
old  heathen  rites.  The  King  himself,  by  enforced 
labor,  enlarged  his  palace,  roofed  it  with  cedar,  painted 
it  with  vermilion,  as  if  the  evil  day  was  still  far  off,  and 
he  could  rest  securely  under  the  protection  of  the 
Egyptian  power,  whose  heavy  tribute  he  exacted  from 
his  unwilling  subjects.^  He  remained  fixed  in  the  rec- 
ollections of  his  countrymen,  as  the  last  example  of 
those  cruel,  selfish,  luxurious  Princes,  the  natural  prod- 
uct of  Oriental  monarchies,  the  disgrace  of  the  mon- 
archy of  David. 

In  this  last  decline  of  the  state  there  were  Prophets 
to  bear  witness  to  higher  truths.  It  may  be  that  the 
warning  voice  from  Habakkuk’s  watch-tower  was  raised 
against  the  grinding  oppression  with  which  Jehoiakim’s 
buildings  were  carried  on,  which  would  make  the  very 
stones  and  rafters  cry  out  against  him.®  Another 

1 Ezek.  xix.  3,  4.  the  blessing  promised  in  2 Sam.  vii 

2 Jer.  xxii.  10,  11,  12.  12-16  (Keil). 

3 2 Kings  xxiii.  34.  Apparently,  * Jer.  xxii.  13,  14. 
t>)  a kind  of  incantation,  to  secure  ^ 2 Kings  xxiii.  35. 

6 Hab.  ii.  9-11. 


584 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  XL 


Proplict.  Urijali,  from  the  ancient  Kirjath-jearim,  at  the 
very  Ijeginning  of  the  reign,  by  his  energetic 
remonstrances/  probably  against  the  Egyptian 
alliance,  provoked  such  a fierce  reaction  of  king,  and 
nobles,  and  army,  that  he  had‘to  fly  for  safety  even  into 
Egypt  itself  He  was  pursued  by  no  less  a person  than 
the  King’s  father-in-law,  and  brought  back  to  Jerusalem, 
where  he  was  beheaded,  and  his  corpse  excluded  from 
the  cemetery,  which,  as  it  seems,  by  long  usage,  had 
been  devoted  to  the  Prophetic  order.^ 

But  the  chief  monitor  was  Jeremiah  himself  Except 
Jeremiah  at  the  funeral  of  Josiah,  this  is  the  first  record 

in  the  Tern-  ^ i • i t 

pie.  of  Ills  public  appearance.  In  the  court  of  the 

Temple,  in  the  midst  of  a vast  assemblage,  headed  by 
the  Priestly  and  Prophetic  orders,  the  Prophet  rose  up 
and  delivered  an  appeal  ^ which  contained  almost  every 
element  of  his  teaching.  It  struck  the  successive  chords 
of  invective,  irony,  bitter  grief,  and  passionate  lamenta- 
tion. It  touched  on  all  the  topics  on  which  his  country- 
men would  be  most  sensitive  — not  only  the  idolatrous 
charms  by  which  they  hoped  to  win  the  favor  of  the 
Phoenician  deities,  in  whom  they  perhaps  but  only  half 
believed,  but  on  the  uselessness  and  impending  fall  of 
the  ancient  institutions,  which  had  seemed  to  contain  a 
promise  of  eternal  duration,  — the  Temple  of  Solomon, 
the  Mosaic  ritual,  the  Eoyal  Sepulchres,  the  Holy  City, 
the  Chosen  People,  the  sacred  rite  of  Circumcision. 
But  the  main  point  of  his  address  was  when  he  re- 
minded them  of  the  last  signal  overthrow  of  the  national 
sanctuary,  and  bade  them  see  with  their  own  eyes,  not 

1 By  a very  ingenious  argument  with  the  unknown  author  of  Zech 
Bunsen  {Gott  in  der  GescMchte,  p.  * xii. — xiv. 

452)  endeavors  to  identify  Urijah  2 Jer.  xxvi.  20-23. 

3 Ibid.  vii. — ix. 


Lzct.  XL. 


JEHOIAKIM. 


585 


thirty  miles  from  Jerusalem,  the  desolate  state  of 
Shiloh.^  It  was  as  if  the  picture  of  the  ruined  shrine 
of  Eli  and  Samuel  was  too  much  to  be  borne  by  the 
Priests  and  the  Prophets,^  who  surrounded  the  Temple 
court.  They  closed  upon  him,  as  in  like  manner  upon 
Paul  on  the  same  spot  six  hundred  years  after.  As 
then,  so  now,  the  deliverance  of  the  Prophet  from  the 
fury  of  the  religious  world  came  from  the  calmer  and 
juster  view  of  the  secular  power.  The  Princes  or 
nobles,  who  in  these  latter  reigns  had  almost  turned  the 
monarchy  into  an  oligarchy,  were  assembled  in  the 
King’s  palace,  when  they  were  summoned  by  the 
tumult  in  the  Temple  to  the  judgment-seat,  within  a 
gate  newly  erected,  perhaps  in  Josiah’s  repairs,  and 
called,  in  the  fervor  of  his  zeal,  The  Gate  of  Jeho- 
vah.” ^ There  the  Prophet  pleaded  for  his  life,  and  the 
nobles,-  reckless  and  worldly  as  they  were,  with  a deeper 
sense  of  justice  than  his  fanatical  assailants,  solemnly 
acquitted  him.  Some  of  them  appealed  to  the  forbear- 
ance of  Hezekiah  towards  Micah ; and  Ahikam,  the  son 
of  Josiah’s  minister,  stood  gallantly  between  the  Prophet 
and  his  enemies.^ 

Meantime  the  doom  which  Jeremiah  had  foretold  was 
rapidly  approaching.  Had  the  worn-out  empire  of 
Assyria  been  the  01113^  antagonist  of  Jehoiakim’s  Eg}^p- 
tian  patron,  we  might  have  had  a long  line  of  successors, 
under  whom  the  peculiarities  of  the  Jewish  faith  and 
nationality  would  have  been  graduall}^  absorbed  into  the 
kingdom  of  the  Pharaohs.  But  a new  power  was  at 
hand,  of  which  the  full  inlluence  on  the  Chosen  People 

1 Jer.  vii.  12-14;  comp.  x.Kvi.  6.  3 Jer.  xxvi.  10  (Ileb.). 

2 Ibid.  xxvi.  8,  11.  The  LXX.  * Ibid  Kxvi.  24. 
nas  false  Prophets,”  But  this  is  not 

jxpressed  in  the  original. 


68C 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  XL 


was  reserved  for  the  later  period  of  tlieii  history;  but 
which  even  now,  in  its  first  beginnings,  changed  the 
relations  of  all  the  Asiatic  kingdoms.  The  Assyrian 
Empire  vanishes  from  the  earth  so  suddenly  and  so 
noiselessly,  that  its  fall  is  only  known  to  us  through  the 
reduced  grandeur  of  the  palaces  of  its  latest  King,  and 
through  the  cry  of  exultation  raised  over  its  destruction 
by  the  Israelite  Prophet.^  Whatever  may  have  been 
the  other  causes  of  its  overthrow,  — Scythian  hordes  or 
Median  kings,  ^ — there  can  be  no  question  that  in  its 
place  arose,  in  the  plenitude  of  its  greatness,  the  Baby- 
lonian Empire,  under  the  guidance,  first  of  Nabo- 
polassar,  known  to  us  only  through  the  fragrqents  of 
heathen  annalists,  and  of  his  greater  son,  Nebuchadnez- 
zar, who  for  the  next  thirty  years  occupies  in  the  horizon 
of  Asia  and  Egypt  the  position  of  Sennacherib,  and,  yet 
earlier,  of  Raineses  II.  It  seemed  to  those  who  wit- 
nessed it  like  the  rising  of  a mighty  eagle,  spreading 
out  his  vast  wings,  feathering  with  the  innumerable 
colors  of  the  variegated  masses  which  composed  the 
Chaldman  host,  sweeping  over  the  different  countries, 
and  striking  fear  in  his  rapid  flight.^  The  main  object 
is  Egypt,  and  the  unhappy  Jewish  nation  which,  in 
defiance  of  old  Prophetic  warnings,  past  and  present, 
has  allowed  Egypt  to  make  it  her  instrument.  ^^Pha- 

raoh.  King  of  Egypt,  is  but  a noise : he  hath  passed 
^Hhe  time  appointed.”^ 

It  was  at  Carchemish,  an  ancient  fortress  commanding 
Battle  of  the  passage  of  the  Euphrates,  that  the  collision 

mish.  took  place.  The  Egyptian  army  had  come 

1 Nahum.  See  Lecture  XXXIV.  3 Ezek.  xvii.  3,  &c. ; comp.  Jer 

2 For  the  whole  of  this  convulsion  xlviii.  40  ; xlix.  22. 
gee  Rawlinson’s  Ancient  Monarchies,  ^ Jer.  xlvi.  17. 
chap,  i.x.,  and  Ewald,  ili.  726,  &c. 


Lect.  XL. 


JEHOIAKIM. 


6S7 


against  it,  with  all  its  glittering  array  of  buckler  and 
shield/  helmets,  spears,  and  coats  of  mail,  of  chariots 
and  horses,  from  all  its  subject  nations,  like  the  rising 
flood  of  its  own  Nile,^  and  thence  was  driven  back  upon 
itself  by  the  Babylonian  host.  To  the  extremities  of 
Egypt,  from  the  cities  of  the  Delta,  as  far  as  Thebes,  the 
shock  was  felt.^  With  the  retreat  of  Necho,  the  whole 
country  was  left  open  to  the  invading  army.  The  snort- 
ing of  the  Chaldman  horses  was  heard  from  the  northern 
frontier  ^ at  Dan.  The  whole  land  trembled  at  the  sound 
of  their  neighing.  Like  a whirlwind,  like  a torrent,  they 
swept  on.^  The  terrified  inhabitants  retired  into  the 
fortified  towns.®  Within  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  was  seen 
the  unwonted  sight  of  Bedouin  ' Bechabites  still  preserv- 
ing their  Arab  custonis,  unchanged,  in  the  midst  of  the 
capital.  The  short-sighted  rulers  ® had  looked  for  peace, 
but  no  good  came,  — for  a time  of  health,  and,  behold, 
trouble. 

Once  more  Jeremiah  became  the  centre  of  interest. 
What  course  would  he,  the  Prophet  of  the  age, 
take  in  the  face  of  this  impending  calamity  ? 

To  all,  except  those  who  took  the  wildest  and  deepest 
view  of  the  prospects  of  the  world  and  of  the  Church, 
the  stern  policy  of  determined  resistance  had  every- 
thing to  recommend  it.  But  it  was  that  wider  view 
which  presented  the  whole  subject  to  the  Prophet’s  eye 
in  a different  aspect.  He  foresaw,  on  the  one  hand, 
that  the  immediate  pressure  of  Babylon  was  irresistible ; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  that  it  could  not  last.  If  Jeru- 
salem could  but  weather  the  present  storm,®  he  was 

1 Jer.  xlvi.  2,  3,  4,  9.  5 xxv.  32;  xlvii.  2. 

2 Ibid.  xlvi.  7,  8.  6 Ibid.  viii.  14. 

Ibid.  xlvi.  14,  25;  Ezek.  xxx.  ^ Ibid.  xxxv.  6-11. 

1-19  ; 2 Kings  xxiv.  7.  ® Ibid.  xili.  15. 

4 Jer.  viii  16.  ^ See  Josephus,  Anl.  x.  7 § 4. 


688 


THE  FAI.E  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  XI* 


assured  that  it  would  soon  pass  by ; and  that  then, 
whatever  blessings  were  bound  up  in  the  preservation 
of  the  House  of  David  and  of  the  Holy  City  would 
remain  intact.  His  political  position  has  been  compared 
to  that  of  Phocion^  in  the  presence  of  the  Macedonian 
power,  and  to  that  of  the  Achmans^  in  the  presence  of 
the  Koman  power.  It  may  still  more  fitly  be  compared 
to  that  of  the  Jewish  Christians  in  the  time  of  the 
Christian  era,  when  the  desperate  resistance  of  the 
Zealots  to  the  armies  of  Vespasian  and  Titus  hur- 
ried on  the  ruin  of  the  Jewish  state,  in  spite  of  the 
warnings  of  the  prudent  Josephus,  and  of  One  far  other 
than  Josephus,  who,  like  Jeremiah,  stood  aloof  from  all 
the  wild  intrigues  and  conspiracies  that  would  have 
made  Him  the  chief  of  a nation  of  insurgents.  It  may  be 
compared  again  to  that  of  the  leaders  of  the  Christian 
Church,  in  the  dissolution  of  the  Roman  empire, — 
Augustine,  who  replied  to  the  taunts  of  treason  brought 
against  the  Christians  by  foreshadowing  the  rise  of  the 
City  of  God  out  of  the  ruins  of  Rome,  — Salvian  who,  by 
his  earnest  vindication  of  the  moral  government  of  God, 
not  less  than  by  his  wailings  over  the  calamities  of 
the  time,  has  deserved  the  name  of  the  Jeremiah  of  his 
age.^  It  was  not  indifference  to  his  country,  but  attach- 
ment to  its  permarTent  interests,  with  the  yet  larger 
consequences  wrapt  up  in  them,  which  induced  him  to 
counsel  submission.  It  was  his  sense  of  the  inestimable 
importance  of  that  sacred  spot,  with  its  sacred  institu- 
tions, which  caused  him  to  advise  every  sacrifice  for  the 
sake  of  retaining  it.  He  had  the  courage,  so  rare  in 
religious  or  political  leaders,  to  surrender  a part  for  the 

1 Bunsen,  Gott  in  der  Gescliichte,  ^ “ Novus  ille  bujus  sieculi  Iliere* 

.44.  raias”  (Baronins,  476,  3). 

2 Niebuhr,  Lectures  on  Ancient 
Hitlorify  iv.  303. 


L»€t.  XL. 


JEHOIAKIM. 


689 


sake  of  preserving  the  whole^  — to  embrace  in  his  view 
the  complete  relations  of  the  great  scheme  of  the  world, 
rather  than  fix  his  attention  exclusively  on  the  one 
pressing  question  of  the  moment.  As  there  are  times 
when  the  constitution  must  be  broken  to  save  the  com 
monwealth,  — when  the  interests  of  particular  nations 
or  doctrines  must  give  way  to  the  preponderating 
claims  of  mankind  or  of  truth  at  large,  — so  J eremiah 
staked  the  eternal  value  of  the  truths  which  Jerusalem 
represented  against  the  temporary  evils  of  the  Chah 
daean  dominion.  It  was  a bitter  pang,  hut  the  result 
seemed  to  him  worth  the  cost. 

To  steel  his  melting  heart 
To  act  the  martyr’s  sternest  part ; 

To  watch  with  firm  unshrinking  eye 
His  darling  visions  as  they  die, 

Too  happy  if,  that  dreadful  day. 

His  life  be  giv’n  him  for  a prey.^ 


Accordingly,  the  warning  words  which  he  had  uttered 
at  the  beginning  of  Jehoiakim’s  reign  were  re-  warnings 
peated  with  more  determined  energy  as  the  miah. 
crisis  drew  nearer.  Every  common  event  of  life  was 
colored  with  the  hues  of  the  time.  The  unshaken  fidel 
ity  of  the  little  colony  of  Eechabites  to  their  ancestral 
customs  suggested  the  contrast  of  the  broken  vows  of 
Israel.^  The  potter’s  work  in  the  valley  of  Hinnom, 
with  its  surrounding  scenes  of  the  sacrifices  of  Tophet, 
filled  his  mind  with  lessons  of  the  greatness  of  the  de- 
signs of  God,  guided  not  by  flite  or  caprice,  but  by  the 
moral  deserts  of  men.^  He  stood  with  his  scroll  in  his 
hand,  containing  all  the  prophecies  of  the  last  two  and 
twenty  years,  as  though  it  were  a bowl  of  deadly  wine 


1 Jer.  xlv.  4,  5.  Christian  Year,  2 Jer.  xxxv.  14-16. 
11th  Sunday  after  Trinity.  ^ Ibid,  xviii.  — xix.  11. 


690 


.THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  ZT*. 


which  nation  after  nation  was  to  drink  ; and  as  though 
he  saw  king  upon  king,  and  throne  upon  throne,  reel- 
ing, staggering,  sickening,  with  the  dreadful  draught.^ 
At  every  stage  of  his  preaching,  the  “ theological 
hatred  ” of  the  ancient  Church  grew  fiercer  and  fiercer. 
He  had  touched  the  teachers  in  their  tenderest  point 
by  declaring  that  they  had  ceased  to  be  necessary. 
They  could  not  bear  to  hear  that  a time  was  coming 
when  the  law  sliould  perish  from  the  Priest,  and  counsel 
from  the  wise,  and  the  word  from  the  Prophet.^  He  on 
his  side,  as  he  seemed  to  be  hemmed  in  closer  and 
closer,  was  wound  up  to  a fiercer  strain  in  return.  He 
stood  in  the  accursed  valley  of  Hinnom  once  again,  and 
from  the  potter’s  store  held  up  an  earthenware  vessel 
before  the  shuddering  Priests  and  Elders,  and  dashed  it 
in  fragments  on  the  ground,  with  the  warning  cry  that 
thus  should  Jerusalem  and  its  people  be  shivered  to 
pieces.^  Whilst  his  hearers  stood  awestruck  in  the 
valley  beneath,  the  Prophet,  wrought  to  a yet  loftier 
pitch,  mounted  the  steep  hill-side,  and  poured  forth  the 
same  burning  invectives  ^ within  the  Temple  courts. 
Then,  and  not  till  then,  the  Priestly  officer,  who  had 
special  charge  of  the  Temple,  seized  him,  and  immured 
him  in  a prison,  where  he  was  fixed  in  a rack  ® or  pil- 
lory, apparently  used  as  the  common  punishment  of  un- 
popular Prophets.  For  a moment  his  spirit  rose  to  one 
of  his  wildest  and  sternest  denunciations,  and  then,  as 
if  overstrained  by  the  effort,  he  sank  back  into  the 
deepest  gloom,®  — the  gloom  of  many  a lofty  soul  which 
feels  itself  misunderstood  by  men,  wffiich  can  hardly 
believe  that  it  is  not  deserted  by  God. 

1 Jer.  XXV.  1-29.  ® Jer.  xx.  2 ; xxix.  26  ; comp  2 

2 Ibid  xvii.,  18.  Chr.  xvi.  10  ; Acts  xvi.  21. 

3 Ibid.  xix.  1,11.  ® Ibid.  xx.  3-18. 

* Ibid.  xix.  15. 


Lbct.  XL. 


JEHOIAKIM. 


591 


In  this  deep  distress,  one  faithful  friend  is  by  his  side, 
his  Elisha,  his  Timotheus,  — Baruch,  the  son  of  Neriah, 
In  their  prison,  or  their  hiding-place,  he  heard  the 
rumors  of  the  great  events  which  filled  the  minds  and 
thoughts  of  the  whole  people.  It  was  then  that  Recitation 
the  resolution  vras  taken  of  committing  to 
writing  all  the  scattered  prophecies  of  the  last  troubled 
years.  Baruch  was  skilled  in  the  art,  and  from  Jere- 
miah’s dictation,  on  a roll  of  parchment,  divided  into 
columns,  with  the  ink  and  reed  which,  as  a scribe,  he 
always  carried  with  him,  he  wrote  down  the  impas- 
sioned warnings  Avhich  Jeremiah  had  already  spoken,^ 
which  were  intended,  like  the  newly  discovered  Law  in 
Josiah’s  reign,  to  warn  the  King  and  nobles  to  a sense 
of  their  danger.  It  was  determined  to  seize  the  occa- 
sion of  a public  fast  to  make  the  hazardous  experiment. 
On  that  day,  a wintry  day  in  December,  Baruch  ap- 
peared in  the  chamber  of  a friendly  noble,  Gemariah, 
the  son  of  Shaphan,  which  was  apparently  over  the  new 
gateway  already  mentioned.  There,  from  the  window 
or  balcony  of  the  chamber,  or  from  the  platform  or 
pillar  on  which  the  Kings  had  stood  on  solemn  occa- 
sions, he  recited  the  long  alternation  of  lament  and  in- 
vective to  the  vast  congregation,  assembled  for  the 
national  fast.^  Micaiah,  the  son  of  his  host,  alarmed  by 
what  he  heard,  descended  the  Temple  hill,  and  commu- 
nicated it  to  the  Princes  who,  as  usual  through  these 
disturbed  reigns,  were  seated  in  council  in  the  palace, 
in  the  apartments  of  the  chief  secretary.  One  of  them, 
Jehudi,  the  descendant  of  a noble  house,  acted  apparently 
as  an  agent  or  spokesman  of  the  rest,  and  was  sent  to 
summon  Baruch  to  their  presence.  He  ® sat  down  in 

1 Jer.  xxxvi.  2;  xxv.  13.  3 Jer.  xxxvi.  15;  comp.  Luke  iv 

2 See  Lecture  XXXVII.  20. 


592 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lrct.  i'ij 


Lhe  attitude  of  an  Eastern  teacher,  and  as  he  went  on 
his  recital  struck  terror  into  the  hearts  of  his  hearers. 
They  saw  his  danger ; they  charged  him  and  his  master 
to  conceal  themselves,  and  deposited  the  sacred  scroll  in 
the  chamber  where  they  had  heard  it,  whilst  they  an- 
nounced to  the  fierce  and  lawless  King  its  fearful  con- 
tents. A third  time  it  was  recited  — this  time  not  by 
Baruch,  but  by  the  courtier  Jehudi  — to  the  King  as  he 
sat  warming  himself  over  the  charcoal  brazier,  with  his 
princes  standing  round  him.  Three  or  four  columns  ex- 
hausted the  royal  patience.  He  seized  a knife,  such  as 
Eastern  scribes  wear  for  the  sake  of  erasures,  cut  the 
parchment  into  strips,  and  threw  it  into  the  brazier  till 
it  was  burnt  to  ashes.  Those  who  had  heard  from  their 
fathers  of  the  effect  produced  on  Josiah  by  the  recital 
of  the  warnings  of  Deuteronomy,  might  well  be  startled 
at  the  contrast.  None  of  those  well-known  signs  of 
astonishment  and  grief  were  seen  ; neither  King  nor 
attendants  rent  their  clothes.  It  was  an  outrage  long 
remembered.  Baruch,  in  his  hiding-place,  was  over- 
whelmed with  despair  ^ at  this  failure  of  his  missioiu 
But  Jeremiah  had  now  ceased  to  waver.  He  bade  his 
timid  disciple  take  up  the  pen,  and  record  once  more 
the  terrible  messages.  The  countrv  was  doomed.  It 
was  only  individuals  who  could  be  saved.  But  the 
Divine  oracle  could  not  be  destroyed  in  the  destruction 
of  its  outward  framework.  It  was  the  new  form  of  the 
vision  of  the  Bush  burning,  but  not  consumed ; ” a 
sacred  book,  the  form  in  which  Divine  truths  were  now 
first  beginning  to  be  known,  burnt  as  sacred  books  have 
been  burnt  again  and  again,  in  the  persecutions  of  the 
fourth  or  of  the  sixteenth  century,  yet  multiplied  by 
that  very  cause ; springing  from  the  flames  to  do  their 

1 Jer.  xlv.  3. 


Lkct.  XL. 


JEHOIAKIM. 


593 


work,  living  in  the  voice  and  life  of  men,  even  when 
their  outward  letter  seemed  to  be  lost.  Then  took 
Jeremiah  another  roll,  and  gave  it  to  Baruch  the 
scribe,  the  son  of  Neriah,  who  wrote  therein  from  the 
mouth  of  Jeremiah  all  the  words  of  the  book  which 
Jehoiakim,  the  King  of  Judah,  had  burned  in  the  fire, 
and  there  were  added  besides  unto  them  many  like 
words.”  ^ In  this  record  of  the  Prophet’s  feeling,  thus 
emphasized  by  his  own  repetition,  is  contained  the  germ 
of  the  Liberty  of  Unlicensed  Printing,”  the  inexhaust- 
ible vitality  of  the  written  word.  This  is  the  first  re- 
corded instance  of  the  formation  of  a Canonical  Book, 
and  of  the  special  purpose  of  its  formation.  The 
Book  ” now,  as  often  afterwards,  was  to  be  the  death- 
blow of  the  old  regal,  aristocratic,  sacerdotal  exclusive- 
ness, as  represented  in  Jehoiakim.  The  Scribe,”  now 
first  rising  into  importance  in  the  person  of  Baruch,  to 
supply  the  defects  of  the  living  Prophet,  was  as  the 
printing-press,  in  far  later  ages,  supplying  the  defects 
both  of  Prophet  and  Scribe,  and  handing  on  the  words 
of  truth  which  else  might  have  irretrievably  perished. 

We  return  to  the  thin  thread  of  the  gradually  break- 
ing monarchy.  The  King,  possibly  in  conse-  Death  of 
quence  of  the  repeated  entreaties  of  the  b.  c.  598. 
Prophet,  submitted  to  the  Chaldaean  power ; but,  with 
the  fickleness  which  belonged  to  his  character,  imme- 
diately revolted  again ; and,  in  the  inroad  of  the  neigh- 
boring hostile  tribes,  let  loose,  according  to  the  policy 
of  Nebuchadnezzar,  against  their  ancient  enemy,  the 
calamities  of  the  country  seemed  to  reach  their  culmi- 
nation.^ In  this  confusion  and  alarm  the  reign  of 
Jehoiakim  closed  amidst  a shade  of  deep  melancholy 
and  almost  mystery,  wKich  well  expresses  the  national 

2 2 Kings  xxiv.  2. 

88 


1 Jer.  XXX vi.  32. 

VOL.  II. 


694 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  XL*. 


feeling  respecting  it.  According  to  one  version,  the 
city  was  besieged,  the  Temple  was  plundered  of  many 
of  its  sacred  vessels,  and  the  King  himself  taken  cap- 
tive.^ According  to  a second,  the  Chaldman  troops^ 
entered  Jerusalem  on  friendly  terms,  and  then  seized 
and  killed  the  King  and  the  chiefs  of  the  State. 
According  to  a third,  he  died  peacefully  at  home,^  and 
was  buried  in  the  garden  of  Uzza  by  the  side  of  his 
grandfather  Manasseh,  and  his  father  Josiah.  Accord- 
ing to  a fourth,  which  well  expresses  the  detestation  in 
which  his  memory  was  held,  there  were  no  funeral 
dirges  over  him  as  there  had  been  over  his  father  and 
brother ; but  his  corpse  was  thrown  out,  like  that  of  a 
dead  ass,  outside  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,^  exposed  to  the 
burning  sun  by  day,  and  the  wasting  frost  by  night.^ 
And  this  prophetic  curse  was  darkened  with  a yet 
deeper  hue  by  the  legend  which  described  how,  on  the 
skin  of  the  dead  corpse,  as  it  thus  lay  exposed,  there  ap- 
peared in  distinct  Hebrew  characters  the  name  of  the 
demon  Codonazer,  to  whom  he  had  sold  himself.® 

In  the  disorder  which  followed  on  Jehoiakim’s  death 
jehoiachin.  oxilc,  liis  son  Jeconiali  or  Coniah,  who  as- 
B.  c.  598.  gijjned  either  his  father’s  name,^  Jehoiakim,  or 
that  of  Jehoiachin,  the  Lord’s  Appointed,”  was  raised 

1 2 Chr.  xxxvi.  7.  The  siege  of  curse  of  Zedekiah,  Jeremiah  xxxiv. 
Jerusalem,  which  in  Dan.  i.  1 is  5. 

placed  in  the  third  year  of  Jeh.oia-  4 Jer.  xxii.  18,  19.  Although  this 
kim,‘is  in  2 Chr.  xxxvi.  5,  6,  8 placed  is  only  a prediction,  yet  the  fact  of 
in  the  eleventh  year.  Much  of  this  its  being  recorded  would  seem  to  im- 
obscurity  may  arise  from  the  confusion  ply  that  it  had  been  fulfilled, 
of  Jehoiakim  with  Jehoiachin,  see  2 5 Ibid,  xxxvi.  30. 

Kings  xxiv.  8 (LXX.).  ® See  the  tradition  quoted  by 

2 Josephus,  Ant.-x..  6,  §3.  Thenius  (on  2 Kings  xxv.  1),  prob- 

3 2 Kings  xxiv.  6 ; 2 Chr.  xxxvi.  8.  ably  suggested  by  2 Chr.  xxxvi.  8 • 

(LXX.).  It  is  possible  that  in  any  Ilab.  ii.  9 (“  that  which  was  found  in 
case  his  corpse  may  have  been  ulti-  him  ” and  “ the  power  of  evil  ”). 
snately  interred  there.  Compare  the  2 Kings  xxiv.  8,  12  (LXX.). 


Lbct.  XL. 


JEHOIACHIN 


595 


CO  the  throne.  His  mother,  Nehushta,  the  daughter  of 
one  of  the  chief  nobles,  occupied  the  position,  great 
even  in  this  last  extremity  of  the  house,  of  Queen- 
mother.  His  short  reign  of  three  months  is  wrapped 
in  obscurity  and  contradiction.  But  whether,  as  by  one 
report,  he  was  a little  cliild,^  or  by  another  a full-grown 
youth ; ^ whether  a prince,  headstrong  and  violent,^  or 
kind  and  gentle,^  he  attracted  a peculiar  sympathy  in 
his  fall,  as  the  last  of  the  lion^  cubs  of  the  tribe  of 
J udah,  the  last  direct  heir  ® of  the  house  of  David.  At 
the  first  onslaught  of  the  Babylonian  army  on  Jeru- 
salem, he  and  his  mother^  Nehushta,  unwilling  to  expose 
the  city  to  a siege,  sate  down  as  suppliants  before  the 
conqueror.  The  golden  ornaments  ^ of  the  Temple 
were  rudely  hacked  off  and  carried  to  Babylon ; and 
thither  also  the  King  himself,  the  Queen-mother,  the 
royal  harem,  the  nobles  and  priests,  and  a certain  num- 
ber, variously  stated,®  of  soldiers,  artificers,  and  smiths. 

The  nation  reeled  under  the  blow.  It  seemed  to  them 
as  if  the  signet-ring  of  His  promises  were  torn  off  from 
the  hand  of  God  Himself  It  could  hardly  be  believed 
that  the  young  Prince,  the  last  of  his  race,  should  be 
cast  away  like  a broken  idol  and  despised  vessel,’®  and 
that  the  voice  of  the  young  lion  should  be  no  more 
heard  on  the  mountains  of  Israel ; ” that  the  topmost 
and  tenderest  shoot  of  the  royal  cedar-tree  should  have 
been  plucked  off  by  the  Eagle  of  the  East,  and  planted 


1 2 Chr.  xxxvi.  9. 

2 2 Kings  xxiv.  8. 

3 Ibid.  xxiv.  9 ; Ezek.  xix.  6. 

4 Joseph.  Ant.  x.  7,  § 1. 

5 Ezek.  xix.  6. 

<5  Jsr.  xxii.  30. 

^ Ibid  xiii.  18  (Heb.)  ; xxii.  26; 
xxiv.  12. 


8 2 Kings  xxiv.  13  (Heb.  and 
Thenius). 

3 More  than  10,000  in  2 King# 
xxiv.  14,  15  ; 3023  in  all  in  Jer.  lii. 
28. 

10  Jer.  xxii.  24,  28. 

11  Ezek.  xix.  8. 


696 


THE  FALL  OF  JERJSALEM. 


Lfct.  XL 


far  away  in  the  merchant-city  of  the  Euphrates.^  From 
the  top  of  Lebanon,  from  the  heights  of  Bashan,  from 
the  ridges  of  Abarim,  the  widowed  country  shrieked 
aloud,  as  she  saw  the  train  of  her  captive  King  and 
nobles  disappearing  in  the  distant  East.^  From  the 
heights  of  Hermon,  from  the  top  of  Mizar,  it  is  no  im- 
probable conjecture  that  the  departing  King  poured 
forth  that  exquisitely  plaintive  song,  in  which,  from  the 
deep  disquietude  of  his  heart,  he  longs  after  the  pres- 
ence of  God  in  the  Temple,  and  pleads  his  cause 
against  the  impious  nation,  the  treacherous  and  unjust 
man,  who,  in  spite  of  plighted  faith,®  had  torn  him  away 
from  his  beloved  home.  With  straining  eyes,  the 
Jewish  people  and  Prophets  still  hung  on  the  hope  that 
their  last  prince  would  be  speedily  restored  to  them. 
The  gate  through  which  he  left  the  city  was  walled  up, 
like  that  by  which  the  last  Moorish  king  left  Granada, 
and  was  long  known  as  the  Gate  of  Jeconiah.  From 
his  captivity,  as  from  a decisive  era,  the  subsequent 
years  of  the  history  were  reckoned.^  The  tidings  were 
treasured  up  with  a mournful  pleasure,  that,  in  the  dis- 
tant Babylon,  where,  with  his  royal  mother,^  he  was  to 
end  his  days,  after  many  years  of  imprisonment,  the 
curse  of  childlessness,  pronounced  upon  him  ® by  the 
Prophet,  was  removed ; and  that,  as  he  grew  to  man’s 
estate,  a race  of  no  less  than  eight  sons  were  born  to  him, 
by  whom  the  royal  race  of  Judah  was  carried  on;’  and 
yet  more,  that  he  had  been  kindly  treated  by  the  suc- 
cessor® of  his  captor;  that  he  took  precedence  of  all 

1 Ezok.  xvii.  4.  5 Jer.  xxii.  26  ; 2 Kings  xxiv.  15. 

* Jer.  xxii.  20  (Heb.)  23.  6 Jer.  xxii.  30. 

3 Ps.  xlii.  1,  2;  xliii.  1,2  (Ewald).  7 i Chr.  iii.  17,  18;  comp.  Sus 
See  Lecture  IX.  1-4. 

< Ezek.  i.  2;  viii.  1;  xxiv.  1 ; xxvi.  8 2 Kings  xxv.  27-30;  Jer.  lii.  31- 
l ; xxix.  1 ; xxxi.  1.  34.  There  was  a Rabbinical  tretditioo 


LacT.  XL. 


JEHOIACHIN. 


597 


of  the  subject  Kings  at  the  table  of  the  Bab}^ Ionian 
monarch ; that  his  prison  garments  and  his  prison  fare 
were  changed  to  something  like  his  former  royal  state. 
With  this  tender  recollection  of  the  unfortunate  Prince, 
the  historical  records,  not  only  of  himself  but  of  the 
monarchy,  abruptly  come  to  an  end.  But  the  traditions 
of  him  still  linger  in  the  close,”  and  more  than  one 
sacred  legend — enshrined  in  the  Sacred  Books  of  many 
an  ancient  Christian  Church  — tells  how  he,  with  the 
other  captives,  sate  on  the  banks  ^ of  the  Euphrates,  and 
shed  bitter  tears,  as  they  heard  the  messages  of  their 
brethren  in  Palestine  ; or  how  he  dwelt  in  a sumptuous 
house  and  fair  gardens,  with  his  beautiful  wife  Susannah, 
more  honorable  than  all  others.”  ^ 

The  feeling  of  sympathy  with  Jehoiachin  extended 
itself,  not  only  to  the  King  but  to  his  companions  in 
exile.  In  a homely  but  expressive  figure  the  contrast 
is  represented  to  Jeremiah  between  the  miserable  dregs 
that  were  left,  and  the  promise  of  those  that  were 
taken.  Two  baskets  of  figs  were  placed  before  him — 
the  one  containing  figs  good,  very  good,  and  the  evil, 
«very  evil,  that  cannot  be  eaten,  they  are  so  evil.”^ 
With  the  exiles  there  were  indeed  some  of  the  choicest 
spirits  of  the  nation,  — Ezekiel,  second  only  to  Jeremiah 
himself  in  the  Prophets  of  this  epoch ; and,  it  may  be 
added  with  some  hesitation,  Kish,  the  ancestor  of  Mor- 
decai ; ^ and  Daniel  with  his  three  companions.^  To 

that  Evilmerodach’s  kindness  arose  peans  to  be  a corruption  of  the  Ara* 
from  his  acquaintance  with  Jelioia-  bic  name  for  the  Euphrates, 

chin,  in  the  prison  into  which  he  had  2 Susanna  1-4.  See  Africanus, 

himself  been  thrown  by  an  expression  ad  Orig.  (Routh,  Rel.  Sacr.  ii.  113),. 
Df  pleasure  at  Nebuchadnezzar’s  ill-  who  identifies  Joachim  with  Jehola- 
uesB.  It  probably  was  really  an  act  chin, 
of  grace  on  his  accession.  (Thenius  3 xxiv.  3. 

an  2 Kings  xxv.  27.)  4 Plsther  ii.  5,  6. 

1 Baruch  i.  3,  4.  The  “ Sud  ” ap-  5 In  Dan  i.  1,  Daniel’s  captivity 


598 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  XL» 


these  fellow-countrymen  Jeremiah  addressed  his  con- 
solations in  a letter,^  which  may  have  first  suggested 
the  epistolary  form  as  a model  of  Prophetic  com- 
munications, to  be  afterwards  adopted  by  the  Christian 
Apostles.  On  the  new  commonwealth  then  rising  up 
a new  hope  might  be  founded.  Two  generations  were 
to  pass  away,  and  then  a joyful  return  might  be  ex- 
pected. 

It  might  have  seemed  that  the  mere  fragment  that 
remained  in  Palestine  was  hardly  worth  preserving. 
But  so  long  as  the  Holy  City  and  the  Temple  stood,  so 
long  as  the  torch  of  David’s  house  was  not  utterly  ex- 
tinguished, there  was  still  the  chance  that,  even  under 
the  shelter  of  Babylon,  the  essential  conditions  of  the 
True  Eeligion  might  be  maintained.  One  son  of  Josiah 
Zedekiah.  was  still  left,  Mattaniah,  the  father  of  Jehoahaz, 
598-587.  and  uncle  of  the  late  King  Jehoiachin.^  As 
the  last  notes  of  Jeremiah’s  dirge  over  Jehoiachin  died 
away,  he  had  burst  forth  into  one  of  those  strains  of, 
hope,  in  which  he  represented  the  future  Euler  of  Israel 
as  the  Eighteousness  or  Justice  of  Jehovah.”®  It  may 
be  that,  in  allusion  to  this,  the  new  King  assumed  that 
name,  Zedek-Jah,  on  his  accession  to  the  throne.  He 
was  a mere  youth,  but  not  without  noble  feelings, 
which,  in  a less  critical  moment,  might  have  saved  the 
state.  Like  some  of  his  predecessors  he  endeavored, 
by  a solemn  sacrificial  league  with  his  people,  to  secure 
a reformation  which  ordinary  motives  would  have  failed 
to  obtain.  In  this  instance  he  acted  apparently  under 

assigned  to  Jehoiakim,  in  part  con-  i Jer.  xxix.  1-14. 

firmed  by  2 Chr.  xxxvi.  7.  Josephus  2 In  2 Chr.  xxxvi.  10,  he  is  the 

(^Ant.  X.  6,  § 3)  refers  Ezekiel  to  this  brother  of  Jehoiachin.  Comp.  1 Chr 

period,  and  (Ant.  x.  10,  § 1)  Daniel  iii.  16. 

to  Zedekiah’s  exile.  3 Jer.  xxiii.  5-7. 


Lbct.  XL. 


ZEDEKIAH. 


599 


the  high  moral  teaching  of  Jeremiah.  As  in  the  old 
patriarchal  times,  a calf  was  killed  and  cut  in  two ; and 
between  the  divided  parts  the  nobles,  the  court,  and 
the  Priesthood  of  Judah  passed,  to  pledge  themselves 
to  the  abolition  of  at  least  one  long-standing  grievance, 
and  to  cause  a general  emancipation  of  the  Jews  and 
Jewesses  who,  by  neglect  of  the  Mosaic  ordinances,  had 
become  slaves.^ 

In  foreign  matters  also  the  policy  of  Jeremiah  for  a 
time  prevailed.  The  King  sent  an  embassy  to  Babylon 
by  two  of  the  nobles  ^ who  had  most  heartily  befriended 
the  Prophet,  and  at  last,  accompanied  by  a third  ^ of  the 
same  group,  himself  made  the  journey,  and  there  took 
a solemn  oath  of  allegiance  to  Nebuchadnezzar,  sworn 
by  the  sacred  name  of  Elohim,  which  both  Israelite  and 
Babylonian  alike  acknowledged.  In  defiance  Laststrug- 
of  this  oath,  and,  as  \vould  appear,  immediately 
after  he  had  made  it,  Zedekiah  put  himself  at  the  head 
of  a league  of  the  neighboring  kings  against  the 
Chaldgean  power.  It  is  characteristic  of  the  high 
standard  of  Prophetic  morality,  that  the  violation  of 
this  oath,  though  made  to  a heathen  sovereign,  was 
regarded  as  the  crowning  vice  of  the  weak  King  of 
Judah.  Shall  he  prosper?  Shall  he  escape  that  doeth 

such  things  ? Shall  he  break  the  covenant  ? In 

the  place  where  the  king  dwelleth  that  made  him 
“king,  whose  oath  he  despised,  and  whose  covenant 
“ he  despised,  with  him  in  the  midst  of  Babylon  shall 
“he  die.”^  In  the  midst  of  wild  hopes  and  dark  in- 
trigues, excited  by  the  revolt,  Jeremiah  appeared  once 

1 Jer.  xxxiv.  8,9,  19;  comp.  Gen.  3 Seraiali,  Jer.  li.  59. 

XV.  10,  17.  4 Ezek.  xvii.  14,  18;  xv  8;  xxi 

2 Elasah  and  Gemariah,  Jer.  xxix.  25. 


600 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  XL. 


more  in  the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  with  a wooden  collar 
round  his  neck,  such  as  those  by  which  the  chains  of 
prisoners  were  fastened,  — a living  personification  of 
the  coming  captivity.  In  this  strange  guise  he  went 
round  to  the  ambassadors  from  Phoenicia  and  the  trans- 
Jordanic  nations,  to  the  King  himself,  and  finally  to 
the  Priests  in  the  Temple.^  He  was  treated  alter- 
nately as  a traitor  and  a madman.^  Louder  and  louder 
round  him  rose  the  cry  of  the  Prophets^  on  all  sides, 
in  behalf  of  a determined  resistance  to  the  national 
enemy.  - At  the  head  of  this  Prophetic  band  was 
Hananiah,  from  the  priestly  city  of  Gibeon,  and  there- 
fore probably,  like  Jeremiah,  a Priest.  The  two  Proph- 
ets stood  confronted  in  the  Temple  court.  On  the  one 
side  was  the  watchword,  Ye  shall  not  serve  the  King 
of  Babylon ; ” on  the  other  side,  Serve  the  King 
‘^of  Babylon  and  live.”^  The  controversy  between 
them,  taking  its  form  from  the  scene  and  the  audience, 
turned,  as  often  happens,  not  on  the  main  principles 
at  issue,  but  on  the  comparatively  trivial  question  of 
the  sacred  vessels  of  the  Temple ; Hananiah  maintain- 
ing that  those  which  were  already  gone  would,  in  two 
years,  entirely  return ; Jeremiah,  with  the  sadder  and 
larger  view,  maintaining  that  to  recall  the  past  was 
impossible,  and  that  the  last  hope  now  was  to  do  the 
best  for  the  retention  of  those  that  remained  to  them 
— not,  however,  without  a pathetic  wish  that  his  rival’s 
more  hopeful  prediction  might  be  fulfilled.^  For  the 
moment,  Hananiah  seemed  to  triumph  in  the  superior 
confidence  of  his  cause.  He  tore  the  wooden  collar 
from  Jeremiah’s  neck,  and  snapped  it  asunder,  as  a 


1 Jer.  xxvii.  1-22. 

2 Joseph.  Ant.  x.  7,  § 4. 

3 Jer.  xxvii.  9,  14. 


4 Jer.  xxviii.  1-1 7. 

5 Ibid,  xxvii.  16-22 ; xxviii.  2,  3. 


Lect.  XL. 


CHALDEAN  INVASION. 


601 


sign  that  in  two  years  the  deliverance  would  come. 
In  this  conflict  of  mixed  emotions,  Jeremiah  left  the 
Temple  courts,  never  to  return  to  them.  Only  to 
Hananiah  he  appeared,  with  the  dark  warning  that, 
for  the  broken  yoke  of  wood  he  had,  by  his  false 
encouragements,  forged  a still  harder  yoke  of  iron,  and 
that  within  that  year  he  himself  should  die.^ 

He  died,  in  fact,  within  two  months  from  the 
time,  and  in  him  passed  aAvay  the  last  echo  of  the 
ancient  invincible  strain  of  the  age  of  Tsaiah. 

The  controversy  respecting  the  sacred  vessels  seems 
to  have  been  solved  by  the  King’s  ordering  a chaidasan 
silver  set  to  be  made  instead  of  the  golden 
service  which  had  been  lost.^  But  the  intended  revolt 
still  continued,  and  in  direct  violation^  of  the  treaty 
with  Babylon,  the  King  formed  an  alliance  with  Egypt, 
against  which  Jeremiah  in  Jerusalem,  and  Ezekiel  from 
the  far  East,  protested  in  vain.  The  Chaldsean  forces 
poured  into  the  country.  With  bitter  sighs,  with 
melting  hearts,  with  feeble  hands,  with  fainting  spirits, 
with  failing  knees,  the  dreadful  tidings  were  an- 
nounced.^ A sword,  furbished,  and  sharpened,  and  glit- 
tering, seemed  to  leap  from  the  Divine  scabbard,^  like 
that  which  in  the  siege  of  Titus  was  believed  to  flame 
across  the  heavens.  There  was  a doubt  for  a moment 
at  the  dividing  of  the  great  Babylonian  roads,®  whether 
the  army  should  proceed  against  Kabbath  of  Ammon, 
or  Jerusalem  of  Judah.  The  Chaldsean  King  stood 
at  the  parting  of  the  ways.  He  made  liis  arrows  of 
divination  bright,  he  consulted  with  images,  he  looked 
on  the  sacrifice.  All  the  omens  pointed  to  Jerusalem, 


1 Jor.  xxvili.  12-17. 

2 Baruch  I.  8. 

* Joseph.  Ant.  x.  7,  § 1. 


4 Ezek.  xxi.  7. 

5 Ibid.  xxi.  9-11. 

* Ibid,  xxi,  19-22. 


602 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect  XI 


and  to  Jerusalem  he  came.  Palestine  was  overrun, 
and  Jerusalem,  with  the  two  strong  southern  fortresses 
of  Lachish  and  Azekah,  alone  remained  unshaken.  At 
this  emergency  the  Egyptian  army  appeared,  and  the 
Chaldseans  raised  the  siege.  It  was  like  that  critical 
moment  in  the  last  war  of  the  Jews,  when  the  tem- 
porary withdrawal  of  the  Roman  forces  from  Jerusa- 
lem left  a pause  before  the  final  overthrow.  Some 
fled  into  the  camp  of  the  enemy;  some  to  the  hills 
beyond  the  Jordan ; some,  like  frightened  doves,  to 
the  mountains  of  Judea.^  Within  the  city,  the  nobles 
once  more  regained  their  ascendancy  over  the  King, 
and  the  forced  emancipation  of  their  slaves  was  re- 
voked. Against  this  injustice  Jeremiah  raised  his 
voice,  in  accents  worthy  of  Amos  or  Micah.^  It  was 
his  last  public  address.  He  saw  too  clearly  the  com- 
ing catastrophe,  and  was  on  the  point  of  escaping  from 
Jerusalem  to  end  his  days  in  his  own  loved  village  of 
Anathoth.®  At  the  northern  gate  of  the  Temple,  the 
gate  of  Benjamin,”^  he  was  arrested  by  the  officer 
of  the  guard,  on  the  not  unnatural  supposition  that  he 
was  deserting  to  the  Chaldseans.  The  nobles,  delighted 
Imprison-  to  have  their  enemy  in  their  power,  beat  him, 
emiah.  and  then  imprisoned  mm  in  a dungeon,  lormed 
out  of  the  wall  in  the  house  of  Jonathan  the  royal 
scribe.  The  King,  hardly  venturing  to  act  for  himself, 
secretly  caused  him  to  be  removed,  heard  once  more 
his  fearless  warning  and  piteous  entreaty,  and  placed 
him  in  a more  easy  confinement  in  the  court  of  a 
prison  attached  to  the  palace.^  The  King  and  the 

1 Ezek.  vii.  16;  xxxiv.  7;  xxxvii.  4 Jer,  xxxvii.  13;  xx.  2;  ZecK 
5-12.  xiv.  10. 

* Jer.  xxxiv.  17-22.  5 Jer.  xxxvii.  16-21 

* Ibid,  xxxvii.  13-15. 


Lsct.  XL. 


IMPRISONMENT  OF  JEREMIAH. 


603 


nobles  still  sent  to  ask  his  counsel,  and  still  his  answei 
was  the  same.  Those  who  received  his  message  gave 
the  alarm,  and  the  princes  insisted  on  his  removal  to 
a place  of  greater  security,  as  they  could  not  expose 
the  loyalty  and  courage  of  the  people  to  warnings 
of  so  disastrous  and  dispiriting  a tenor.  The  weak 
King  was  unable  to  resist  them,  and  the  Prophet  was 
taken  to  the  house  of  one  of  his  most  determined 
enemies,  and  let  dov/n  into  a deep  well,  from  which 
the  water  had  been  dried,  but  of  which  the  bottom 
was  deep  in  slime,  into  which  he  sank,  and  would 
probably  have  perished,  either  from  hunger  or  suffo- 
cation.’ It  is  difficult  not  to  imagine  a connection 
between  this  incident  and  the  69th  Psalm  I sink 
^^in  the  mire,  where  there  is  no  bottom.  Deliver  me 

out  of  the  mire  that  I sink  not : let  not  the  well 
^^shut  its  mouth  upon  me.”  Reproach  hath  broken 

my  heart : I am  sick,  and  I looked  for  some  to  take 

pity ; but  there  was  none,  and  for  comforters,  and 
“1  found  none.”  Such  a comforter,  however,  was  at 
hand,  — one  of  the  Ethiopian  guards  of  the  royal 
harem,  known  by  the  name  of  ^Hhe  King’s  Slave.” 
Ebed-Melech  found  the  King  sitting  in  the  great  north- 
ern entrance  of  the  Temple,  and  obtained  a revocation 
of  the  order;  and  then,  under  the  protection  of  a 
strong  guard,  proceeded,  with  a detailed  care,  which 
the  Prophet  seems  gratefully  to  record,  to  throw  down 
a mass  of  soft  rags  from  the  royal  wardrobe  to 
ease  the  rough  ropes  with  which  he  drew  him  out  of 
the  w^eU.^  One  more  secret  interview  the  Prophet 
had  with  the  King,  carefully  concealed  from  the  im 
oerious  nobles,  and  was  then  remanded  to  his  formei 

1 Jer.  xxxviii.  1-6  ; xxi.  1-10.  3 Jer.  xxxviii.  7-13. 

2 Ps.  Ixix.  2,  14,  15,  20. 


604 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect  XL 


state  prison,  where  he  remained  secluded  during  the 
rest  of  the  siege,  though  with  a certain  amount  of 
freedom,  and  with  the  companionship  of  his  faithful 
Baruchd  Two  striking  scenes  enlivened  this  solitude. 
One  was  his  grateful  remembrance  of  his  Ethiopian 
benefactor,^  whose  safety  in  the  coming  troubles  he 
positively  predicted.  The  other  was  his  interview 
with  his  cousin  Hanameel.^  He  was  sitting  in  the 
open  court  which  enclosed  the  prison,  with  many  of 
the  citizens  of  Jerusalem  round  him.  Suddenlv  his 
cousin  entered  with  the  offer,  startling  at  that  moment 
of  universal  confusion,  to  sell  the  ancestral  plot  of 
ground  at  their  native  Anathoth,  of  which,  in  the  fall 
of  their  family,  Jeremiah  was  the  last  and  nearest  heir. 
Had  the  Prophet  been  less  assured  of  the  ultimate 
return  of  his  people,  he  might  well  have  hesitated 
at  a proposal  which  seemed  only  like  the  mockery 
that  he  had  before  encountered  from  his  townsmen. 
But  he  felt  assured  that  the  present  cloud  would  pass 
away,  and,  with  a noble  confidence,  which  has  often 
been  compared  to  that  of  the  Roman  senator  who 
bought  the  ground  occupied  by  the  camp  of  Hanni- 
bal, formally  purchased  the  field  in  the  presence  of 
Baruch  and  the  assembled  Jews ; and  then  broke  out, 
once  and  again,  first  in  prose  and  then  in  poetry,  into 
the  expressions  of  his  perfect  conviction  that,  after 
the  misery  of  siege  and  captivity,  the  land  of  Palestine 
should  be  again  peaceably  bought  and  sold,  and  that 
for  all  future  ages  the  royal  family  of  David  and  the 
Levitical  tribe  should  exercise  their  functions  in  a 
spirit  of  justice  never  before  known  within  the  walls 
af  Jerusalem.^  It  is  not  the  only  time  in  the  history 

1 Jer.  xxxviii.  14-28;  xxxvi.  4,  5.  3 Jer.  xxxii.  6-15. 

* Ibid,  xxxix.  15-18.  4 Ibid,  xxxii.  16-44. 


Lect.  XL. 


THE  SIEGE. 


605 


of  States  and  Churches  that  he  who  has  been  de- 
nounced as  a deserter  and  traitor,  becomes  in  the  last 
extremity  the  best  comforter  and  counsellor.  Demos- 
thenes, who  had  warned  his  fellow-countrymen  in  his 
earlier  days  against  their  excessive  confidence,  in  his 
later  days  was  the  only  man  who  could  reassure  their 
excessive  despondency.  Herder,  who  in  his  earlier 
days  had  been  attacked  by  contemporary  theologians 
as  a heretic,  was,  as  years  rolled  on,  invoked  as  their 
only  help  against  the  rising  tide  of  unbelief  Let  all 
such,  in  every  age,  accept  the  omen  of  the  mingled 
darkness  and  light  which  marks  the  vicissitudes  of 
the  career  of  Jeremiah. 

The  siege  had  now  set  in  once  more,  and  for  the  last 
time.  The  nation  never  forgot  the  month  and  ^he  siege, 
the  day  on  which  the  armies  of  Chaldsea  finally 
invested  the  city.  It  was  in  January,  on  the  tenth  day 
of  the  tenth  month.  It  was  felt  as  the  day  of  the 
deepest  gloom  by  the  Israelite  exiles.^  It  has  been 
commemorated  as  a fast,  the  fast  of  Tebeth,  ever  since 
in  the  Jewish  Church.  Round  the  walls  were  reared 
the  gigantic  mounds  by  which  Eastern  armies  con- 
ducted their  approaches  to  besieged  cities,^  and  which 
were  surmounted  by  forts  overtopping  the  walls.  To 
make,  room  for  these,  the  houses  which  the  Kings  of 
Judah  had  built  outside  for  pleasant  retreats  were  swept 
away.^  The  vassal  kings  of  Babylon  had  their  thrones 
planted  in  view  of  each  of  the  gates.^  Famine  and  its 
accompanying  visitation  of  pestilence^  ravaged  the 
crowded  population  within  the  walls.  The  store  of 
bread  was  gradually  exhausted.®  It  was  only  by  a 

^ Ezek.  xxiv.  1-27.  5 Josephus,  Ant.  x.  7,  §4;  8,  § 1 

2 Jer.  xxxii.  24  ; lii.  4 ; Ezek.  iv.  2.  Baruch  ii.  25  ; Ezek.  v.  12. 

3 Jer.  xxxiil.  4.  ® Jer.  lii.  6. 

^ Ibid.  i.  15. 


60G 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  XL 


special  favor  of  the  King  that  a daily  supply  was  sent 
to  Jeremiah  in  his  prison  from  the  baker’s  quarter,  and 
at  last  even  this  failed.’  The  nobles,^  who  had  prided 
themselves  on  their  beautiful  complexions,  “ purer  than 
‘^snow,  whiter  than  milk,  ruddy  as  rubies,  polished  as 
sapphires,”  had  become  ghastly  and  black  with  starva- 
tion. Their  wasted  skeleton  forms  could  hardly  be 
recognized  in  the  streets.  The  ladies  of  Jerusalem,  in 
their  magnificent  crimson  robes,  might  be  seen  sitting 
in  despair  on  the  dunghills.^  From  these  foul  heaps 
were  gathered  morsels  to  eke  out  the  failing  supply 
of  food.  There  was  something  specially  piteous  in 
the  sight  of  the  little  children,  with  their  parched 
tongues,  fainting  in  the  streets,  asking  for  bread,  cry- 
ing to  their  mothers  for  corn  and  wine.^  There  was 
something  still  more  terrible  in  the  hardened  feeling 
with  which  the  parents  turned  away  from  them.  The 
Hebrew  mothers  seem  to  have  lost  the  instincts  even 
of  the  brute  creation,  to  have  sunk  to  the  level  of 
the  unnatural  ostriches  that  leave  their  nests  in  the 
wilderness.^  Fathers  devoured  the  flesh  of  their  own 
sons^  and  their  own  daughters.  The  hands  even  of 
compassionate  mothers  have  sodden  their  own  children,’ 
the  mere  infants  just  born.  Yet  even  in  this  extremity 
the  inhabitants  held  out.  There  was  still  one  corner  of' 
the  city  open,  that  which  commanded  the  road  to 
Jericho,  and,  along  this,  occasional  sallies  were  made  to 
obtain  provisions,  but  were  almost  always  repulsed  by 
the  wild  Arab  tribes  who  hung  on  the  outskirts  of  the 


1 Jer.  xxxvii.  21  ; xxxviii.  9 ; 
Ezek.  iv.  16;  v.  16;  xii.  19. 

s Lam.  iv.  7,  8;  v.  10  (Heb.  and 
Ewald). 


4 Lam  ii.  11,  12,  19  ; iv.  4. 

5 Ibid.  Iv.  3. 

ICzek.  V.  10  ; Baruch  ii.  8. 
7 Lam.  ii.  20 ; iv.  10. 


Lect.  XL. 


THE  SIEGE. 


607 


Chaldoean  camp.^  Against  the  huge  engines  of  Asiatic 
warfare,  the  besieged  citizens  constructed  counter-en' 
gines,  and  (such  was  the  Jewish  tradition)  the  struggle 
was  worthy  of  the  occasion  ; a combat  or  duel,  not  only 
of  courage  but  of  skill  and  intelligence,  between  Baby- 
lon and  Jerusalem.^ 

So  wore  away  the  eighteen  months  of  the  siege. 
Some,  doubtless  of  the  Priestly  and  Prophetic  orders,^ 
shaved  their  heads,  and  clothed  themselves  in  sackcloth, 
and  cast  their  gold  and  silver  into  the  streets,  as  the 
extreme  offerings  of  despair.  Others,  of  the  more 
heathen  faction,  like  the  Roman  Pontiff  reviving  the 
Etruscan  rites  during  the  siege  of  Alaric,  renewed  with 
intenser  fanaticism  the  charms  and  amulets  of  necro 
mancy,  and  even  in  the  courts  of  the  Temple  might  be 
heard  the  loud  wail  of  Hebrew  women  for  their  lost 
Thammuz ; and  in  the  subterranean  chambers  might  be 
seen  seventy  elders  throwing  up  their  clouds  of  incense 
before  the  monstrous  shapes  of  Egyptian  idolatry ; or, 
in  the  sacred  space  in  front  of  the  Temple,  another 
band,  prostrate  before  the  rising  sun.^  They  could  not 
believe  that  the  end  was  near.  They  still  looked  for- 
ward, with  that  passion  for  architecture  which  seems  to 
have  possessed  this  last  period  of  the  monarchy,  to 
building  new  houses,  and  to  enjoying  new  luxuries. 
One  of  these  chiefs  dropped  dead,  it  may  be,  from 
famine  or  fever,  in  the  very  moment  of  his  selfish  ex- 
ultation.^ 

But  the  end  was  now  indeed  near.  ^^An  evil,  an  only 

evil,  behold  it  is  come.”  ^^An  end  is  come,  the  end  is 

come : it  watcheth  for  thee  ; behold,  it  is  come.  The 

1 Lam.  V.  9.  4 Ezek.  viii.  8,  11, 14,  16;  xi.  1-4 

2 Joseph.  Ant.  x.  8,  § 1.  5 Ibid.  xi.  13. 

3 Ezek.  vii.  18,  19. 


608 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  XL. 


“ dawn  of  the  dreadful  day  is  come : the  time  is  come ; 

the  day  of  trouble  is  near ; not  now  the  mere  echo  of 
^Hhe  mountains.  The  day  is  come;  the  dawn  is  past; 

the  time  is  come  ; the  day  draweth  near.”  ^ So  with  a 
reiteration  which  recalls  the  like  cry  of  the  Apocalyptic 
seer  at  Patinos,  the  Prophet  saw  the  gradual  approach 
of  the  catastrophe. 

It  was  at  midnight,^  on  the  ninth  day  of  the  fourth 
month, — answerin^j:  to  July,  — still  kept  as  a 

The  assault.  o ^ i 

fast  by  the  Jewish  nation,  that  the  breach  was 
made  in  the  walls.  By  that  time  the  famine  had  so  ex- 
hausted the  inhabitants,  that  there  was  no  further  power 
of  resistance.  The  entrance  was  effected  by  the  north- 
ern gate.^  Through  the  darkness  of  the  night,  lit  up, 
if  at  all,  only  by  the  nine  days’  moon,  the  Chaldman 
guards  silently  made  their  way  from  street  to  street, 
till  they  suddenly  appeared  in  the  centre  of  the  Temple 
court,  in  the  middle  gateway  which  opened  directly 
on  the  great  brazen  altar.  Never  before  had  such  a 
spectacle  been  seen  in  the  inviolable  sanctuary  of 
Jerusalem.  The  number,  the  titles,  of  the  chiefs  who 
took  the  chief  places  were  all  recorded.  They  were 
six.  Two  of  them  bore  a name  famous  in  the  Baby- 
lonian annals,  — Nergal-Sharezer,  or  Neriglissar;  two 
were  known  only  by  their  official  designation,  — the 
Chief  of  the  Eunuchs  and  the  Chief  of  the  Magi- 
cians ; the  other  two  were  Samgar-nebo  and  Sarsechirn.^ 
These  sate  like  kings  in  the  lofty  archway.  Round  them 
were  the  lesser  princes  of  the  Chaldman  court.  By  their 
side  stood,  or  seemed  to  stand,  one  clothed  in  a long 

1 Ezek.  vii.  2-12.  2 are  here  intended,  Josephus  (Ant. 

2 Josephus,  Ant.  x.  8,  § 2.  x.  8,  § 2)  gives  them  somewhat  diffor- 

3 Ezek.  ix.  2.  ently,  but  with  an  evident  aim  al 

< Jcr.  xxxix.  3.  It  can  hardly  be  unusual  precision,  — “ These  are  their 

Joubted  that  “ the  sLx  ” of  Ezek.  ix.  names  if  any  one  seeks  to  know.’ 


AL. 


THE  FLIGHT  OF  ZEDEKIAH. 


C09 


white  ^inen  robe,  with  the  inkhorn  of  an  Eastern  scribe 
in  his  girdle.^  Was  it  the  invisible  messenger  thus 
made  visible  for  a moment  in  the  Prophetic  vision  ? or 
was  it  the  Royal  Recorder,  always  attendant  on  the 
great  King,  and  thus  used  as  a symbol  of  the  Recording 
and  Protecting  Angel?  Then  the  sleeping  city  woke. 
It  might  well  seem  as  if  from  the  desecrated  Temple 
was  heard  the  rushing  wings  of  the  departing  cherubs, 
as  if  Jehovah  had  indeed  cast  off  the  altai,  round  which 
these  savage  warriors  stood,  the  sanctuary,  which  they 
had  made  their  own.  A clang  and  cry  resounded 
through  the  silent  precincts  at  that  dead  hour  of  night, 
as  if  with  the  tumult  of  the  great  festivals.  The  first 
victims  were  those  who,  whether  from  religious  oi 
superstitious  feelings  and  duties,  were  habitual  occu- 
pants of  the  sacred  buildings;  the  princes  who  there 
pursued  their  idolatrous  rites ; the  Prophets  who 
crowded  there  in  the  vain  hope  that  the  Temple  was 
impregnable ; the  young  Levites  and  Priests  who  were 
bound  to  defend  the  sacred  shrine  with  their  swords 
and  lives.^  The  virgin  marble  of  the  courts  ran  red 
with  blood,  like  a rocky  winepress  in  the  vintage.^ 

The  alarm  soon  spread  to  the  palace.  In  the  twilight® 
of  the  early  summer  dawn,  these  dreadful  scenes  were 
dimly  discerned  from  the  palace  below ; and  before  the 
sun  had  risen,  the  King,  with  his  wives  and  flight 
children,  and  the  royal  guard,  escaped,  not 
by  any  of  the  regular  gates,  but  by  a passage  broken 
through  a narrow  alley,  confined  between  two  walls,^  at 
the  southeastern  corner  of  the  city,  which  the  Chaldaean 

1 Ezek.  ix.  2,  11 ; x.  2.  ^ Lam.  i.  15. 

2 Ibid.  X.  18.  ® Lzek.  xii.  6,  12. 

3 Lam.  li.  7.  ’’  xxxix.  4 ; Kings  xxv.  4 

4 2 Chr.  xxxvi.  17;  Lam.  ii.  21  i Joseph.  Ant.  x.  8,  § 2. 
i.  15. 

VOL.  II. 


39 


6 JO  THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM  Litox.  TL 

army  had  not  been  able  completely  to  invest.  Triey 
passed  out  with  their  heads  muffled/  either  for  disguise, 
or  to  express  tlieir  sense  of  the  greatness  of  the 
calamity/  and  bearing  on  their  shoulders  such  articles 
of  value  as  they  hoped  to  save.  As  in  the  case  of 
David,  the  object  of  the  King  was  to  escape  to  the  east 
of  the  Jordan.  He  and  his  companions  descended, 
unobserved,  by  the  royal  gardens,  and  down  the  steep 
descent  to  Jericho.  There  he  was  overtaken  by  the 
Chaldman  soldiers,  who  had^  received  intelligence  of  his 
flight  from  deserters ; and  in  that  wide  plain,  the  scene 
of  the  first  triumph  of  Joshua,  was  fought  the  last  fight 
of  the  expiring  monarchy.  His  troops  fled,^  and  were 
scattered  to  the  winds.  Swifter  than  the  eagles  of 
heaven  they  pursued  ” the  fugitives  ^ down  the  moun- 
tains ” of  the  pass  of  Adummim,  and  laid  wait  for 
him  in  the  wilderness  ” of  the  Jordan  valley.  In  him 
and  his  royal  house  the  spirit  of  David  held  out  to  the 
last,  and  when  he  was  ensnared,  like  a lion®  in  the 
hunter’s  net,  the  weakness  of  his  character  was  for- 
gotten in  the  greatness  of  his  fall,  and  a long  sigh  was 
heaved  in  remembrance  of  the  opportunity  that  had 
still  been  open  to  him.  ^^The  breath  of  our  nostrils, 
the  Anointed  of  the  Lord,"^  is  taken  in  their  pits,  of 
" whom  we  said.  Under  his  shadow  we  shall  live 
"among  the  heathen.”  He  and  his  family  were  car- 
ried off  in  chains  to  Eiblah,  where  Nebuchadnezzar 
was  encamped  awaiting  the  double  result  of  the  sieges 
of  Jerusalem  and  of  Tyre.  Even  at  this  final  mo- 
ment it  was  the  vengeance  of  his  broken  oath®  that 

1 Ezek.  xii.  6,  12.  5 Lam.  iv.  19. 

5 See  Lecture  XXIV.  Ezek.  xii.  13*,  xvii.  20. 

Joseph.  Ant.  x.  8,  § 2.  Lam.  iv.  20 

< Ibid.  Jer.  lii.  8 ; Ezek.  xii.  14.  ® Joseph.  Ant.  x.  8,  § 2. 


THK  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  CITY. 


611 


pursued  the  unfortunate  Prince,  alike  from  the  exded 
Prophet'  and  from  the  conquering  King. 

A solemn  judgment  was  pronounced  upon  him.  His 
courtiers  and  his  sons  were  executed  in  his  Ttoexiieoi 
pisTht:  and  then,  according  to  the  barbarous^  ^ 


tive  power  of  the  ancient  Prophets,  as  reconcumg, 
this  unexpected  manner,  the  apparent  discrepancy  be- 

-r  • 1 2 


There  was  a long  suspense  at  Jerusalem.  It  was 
not  till  nearly  a month  had  elapsed,  the  tenth  The^de-_^^^ 
day  of  the  fifth  month,  a day  again  memorable  the  c.ty. 
in  Jewish  annals,  as  a “day  of  misery,”  when  the  siep 
of  Titus  closed  in  like  manner,— a day  tragical  as  the 
10th  of  August  in  European  history,— that  Nebuzara- 
dan,  captain  of  the  royal  guard,  came  with  orders  from 
Nebuchadnezzar  to  put  the  finishing  stroke  to  the  work 
of  destruction.  The  Temple,  the  palace,  the  houses  ot 
the  nobles,  were  deliberately  set  on  fire.  The  very 
bones  and  framework  of  Jerusalem  appeared  to  be 
i wrapped  in  flames.  The  walls  and  gates  seemed  to 
lament  and  cry,  as  they  sunk  into  the  earth.  The 
sepulchres,  even  the  consecrated  catacombs  of  the 
Kin-s,  were  opened,  and  the  bodies  thrown  out  to  the 
vultures  and  beasts  of  prey,  which  flocked  to  their 
frio-htful  feast  outside  the  walls.®  Jackals  wandered 


tween  Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel.’ 


even  over 


the  sacred  hill  of  Zion.^  Some  of  the  princes 


3 Jer.  viii.  1 ; Fs.  lx>lx  2,  8. 

4 Lam.  V.  18. 


I Ezek,  xvii.  20. 

Joseph.  Ant.  x.  8,  § 2,  8. 


612 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM 


Lect.  XL 


were  hung  up  by  their  hands  on  the  Temple  walls ; 
others  were  carried  off  to  execution  at  Riblah/  includ- 
ing the  two  Chief  Priests  and  other  great  officers  of  the 
court  and  camp  that  were  found  in  the  city.  The  havoc 
and  carnage  in  the  streets  was  such  that  passers-by 
avoided  every  one  they  mat,  lest  they  should  be  defiled 
by  their  bloody  touch.^  youth,  men  and 

women,  alike  fell  victims  to  the  passion  or  cruelty  of 
the  conqueror.3  The  spoils  of  the  Temple,  those  sacred 
vessels  whose  fate  liad  been  so  furiously  contested  by 
the  Prophets  of  the  contending  factions,  were  swept 
away  to  adorn  the  temples  or  tables  of  the  Babylonian 
court;  and  there  is  a j^athetic  earnestness  in  the  tone 
of  the  historian,  as  he  tells  how  even  the  brazen  laver, 
even  those  two  beautiful  pillars,  which  had  remained 
uninjuredl  through  so  many  devastations,  which  had 
seemed  the  pledges  of  durability  and  stability,  at  last, 
with  all  their  prized  and  delicate  ornaments,  were 
broken  to  pieces,  and  carried  off  as  mere  fragments  of 
metaP  to  Babylon,  never  to  return.  In  the  remains  of 
the  population  of  the  Samaritan  kingdom  it  is  affectino* 
to  see  that  all  sense  of  ancient  rivalry  was  lost  in  the 
grief  of  the  common  calamity.  Pilgrims  from  the 
ancient  capitals  of  Ephraim,  Samaria,  Shechem,  and 
Shiloh  came  flocking  with  shorn  beards,  gashed  faces, 
torn  clothes,  and  loud  wailings,  to  offer  incense  on  the 
ruined  Temple,  which  was  not  their  own.^  Blit  in  the 
neighboring  heathen  tribes  there  was  a savage  ex- 
ultation— more  bitter  to  the  heart  of  Judah  than  the 
calamity  itself — in  the  thought  that  the  Divine  Inheri* 
tance  had  now  passed  into  their  hands.®  There  was  the 

4 2 Kings  XXV.  16,  17. 

^ Jer.  xli.  5. 

6 Ps.  Ixxix.  1. 


1 2 Kings  XXV.  18-20. 

2 Lam.  iv.  14,  15 

3 Ibid.  V.  1 1-1 3 ; 2 Chr.  xxxvi.  1 7. 


Lict.  XL. 


THE  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  CITY. 


613 


licrce  Ammonite  clapping  his  hands  and  stamping 
with  his  feet,  and  the  cold-blooded  Moabite  calmly 
reviewing  the  descent  of  the  sacred  city  to  the  level 
of  the  surrounding  nations.^  The  forgotten  Philis- 
tine was  there,  reviving  his  “ old  hatred  and  despiteful 
heart.”  ^ Tyre,  on  her  distant  island,  rejoiced  in  the 
fall  of  a powerful  rival : shall  be  replenished,  now 

‘Hhat  she  is  laid  waste.”''  But  deepest  of  all  was  the 
indignation  roused  by  the  sight  of  the  nearest  of  kin, 
the  race  of  Esau,  often  allied  to  Judah,  often  indepen- 
dent, now  bound  by  the  closest  union  with  the  power 
that  was  truly  the  common  enemy  of  both.  There  was 
an  intoxication  ^ of  delight  in  the  wild  Edomite  chiefs, 
as  at  each  successive  stroke  against  the  venerable  walls 
they  shouted,^  ^“^Down  with  it ! down  wdth  it ! even  to 
'Hhe  ground.”  They  stood  in  the  passes  to  in-. 
tercept  the  escape  of  those  who  would  have 
fled  down  to  the  Jordan  valley;  they  betrayed  the 
fugitives;  they  indulged  their  barbarous  revels  on  the 
Temple  hill.®  Long  and  loud  has  been  the  wail  of  ex- 
ecration which  has  gone  up  from  the  Jewdsh  nation 
against  Edom.  It  is  the  one  imprecation  which  breaks 
forth  from  the  Lamentations  of  Jeremiah;  it  is  the 
culmination  of  the  fierce  threats  of  Ezekiel;  it  is  the 
sole  purpose  of  the  short,  sharp  cry  of  Obadiah ; it  is 
the  bitterest  drop  in  the  sad  recollections  of  the  Israelite 
captives  by  the  waters  of  Babylon ; and  the  one  war- 
like strain  of  the  Evangelical  Prophet  is  inspired  by  the 
hope  that  the  Divine  Conqueror  should  come  knee-deep 
in  Idumean  blood.’^ 


I Ezek.  XXV.  6,  8. 

- Ibid.  XXV,  15. 

3 Ibid.  xxvi.  2. 

4 Lam.  iv.  21. 

5 Ps.  cxxxvii.  7 ; 1 Esdr.  iv.  45. 


6 Obad.  14,  16. 

7 Lam.  iv.  21,  22;  Erek.  xxv.  8 
12-14  ; Obad.  1-16  ; Jer.  xlix.  7-22 
Ps.  cxxxvii.  7 ; Isa.  Ixiii.  1-4. 


611 


the  fall  of  JERUSALEM. 


Lbot.  XL 


It  has  been  a not  unnatural,  though  groundless,  con- 
elusion  of  later  Jewish  teachers,  that  the  name  of  Edom 
represented  the  hitter  enemy  of  Judaism  in  all  future 
ages ; that  Edom  is  the  type  and  emblem  of  Rome ; that 
Cmsar  and  Titus  were  Edomites  by  descent ; that  the 
soul  of  Esau  still  lingers  in  the  Christian  persecutors  of 
the  race  of  Israel.*  It  is  an  equally  natural  but  hardly 
more  warrantable  thought,  which  has  possessed  the 
mind  of  many  a Christian  reader  of  these  Prophecies, 
that  in  the  desolation  which,  many  centuries  afterwards' 
began  to  brood  over  the  rock-hewn  habitations  and 
tombs  of  Petra,  were  fulfilled  the  curses  of  the  Jewish 
Prophets  ^ on  the  eagle’s  nest  and  rocky  clefts  in  which 
the  sons  of  Esau  had  deemed  themselves  secure.  The 
judgment  on  Edom,  whatever  it  was,  was  exhausted 
when  Edom  itself  passed  away.  The  Roman  Empire 
and  the  Christian  Church  have  their  own  sins  to  answer 
for,  without  being  loaded  with  the  guilt  of  an  ancient 
tribe,  with  which  they  had  no  connection.  But  the 
spirit^  of  those  stern  Prophetic  cries  has  an  eternal 
mea,ning ; for  they  are  the  human  expression  of  the 
Divine  malediction  on  a sin  common  alike  to  East  and 
West,  to  Churches,  kingdoms,  and  individuals,  — the  sin 
most  difficult  to  be  forgiven,  — the  desertion  of  kinsmen 
by  kinsmen,  of  friends  by  friends,  the  readiness  to  take 
advantage  of  the  weaker  side  — hounding  on  the  vic- 
torious party — “standing  on  the  other  side  ” in  the  day 
of  the  sorest  need.^ 

So  perished  the  city  of  David  : 

“ How  doth  the  city  sit  solitary,  that  was  fuU  of  people ! how  is  she 
a widow,  that  was  great  among  the  nations ! and  princess  among  the 
provinces,  how  is  she  become  tributary  ! . . . 

^ Seder  Olam  (Meyer). 

* Jer.  xlix.  16-18  ; Obad.  3,  4. 


3 Obad.  11,  12. 


Lect.  XL. 


JEREMIAH. 


616 


Is  it  noThting  to  you,  all  ye  that  pass  along  the  way  ? Behold  and 
see  if  there  be  any  sorrow  like  unto  my  sorrow,  that  hath  been  done 
unto  me  ? wherewith  Jehovah  hath  afflicted  me  in  the  day  of  His  fierce 
anger.” 

So  bursts  forth  the  elaborate  dirge/  of  which  the  oldest 
Jewish  tradition  ^ tells  us  that,  after  the  captivity  of 
“Israel  and  the  desolation  of  Jerusalem,  Jeremiah  sate 
“ down  and  wept,  and  lamented  his  lamentation  over 
“Jerusalem.”  In  the  face  of  a rocky  hill,  on  the  w^est- 
ern  side  of^the  city,  the  local  belief  has  placed  “the 
“ Grotto  of  Jeremiah.”  There,  in  that  fixed  attitude  of 
orrief,  which  Michael  Angelo  has  immortalized,  Lamenta- 
the  Prophet  may  well  be  supposed  to  have  emiah. 
mourned  the  fall  of  his  country. 

Even  during  the  siege,  Jeremiah  was  the  centre  ol 
interest;  much  more  as  he  now  remained,  amidst  the 
ruin  of  all  that  he  had  loved,  and  had  vainly  struggled 
to  preserve.  His  fame  had  penetrated  to  the  camp  of 
the  Babylonian  King,  and  Nebuzaradan  had  arrived  at 
Jerusalem  with  strict  orders  to  deal  kindly  with  one 
who,  in  fact,  had  deserved  so  well  from  Chaldsea.  He 
was  taken  out  of  his  prison,  and,  with  the  manacles^ 
still  on  his  wrists,  was  hurried  away  with  the  mass  of 
captives  on  the  northern  road.  At  the  first  halting- 
place,  by  the  hill  of  Ramah,  he  was  released,  with  the 
free  choice  of  a place  of  high  favor  in  the  court  of 
Babylon,  or  of  remaining  in  Palestine.  “ He  refused,” 
says  Josephus,  with  a glow  of  patriotic  feeling  which  his 

1 Lam.  i.  1,  12.  The  1st,  2d,  and  artificial,  each  stanza  consisting  of 
4th  parts  of  the  Lamentations  are  three  lines,  each  line  commencing 
arranged  in  alphabetical  rhythm,  as  with  the  same  letter, 
represented  in  the  two  verses  which  2 Prefixed  to  Lam.  i 1,  in  the 
I have  quoted.  The  3d  chapter  is  LXX. 
also  in  alphabetical  rhythm,  but  more  ^ Jer.  xl.  1. 


61C 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lkct.  r* 


own  political  subserviency  had  not  extinguished,  to  go 
to  any  other  spot  in  the  world,  and  he  gladly  clung  to 
the  ruins  of  his  country,  and  to  the  hope  of  living  out 
the  rest  of  his  life  with  its  surviving  relics.”  ^ 

The  Holy  City  was  gone  ; l)ut  the  Holy  Land  still 
was  left,  free  to  be  inhabited  and  cultivated  by  the 
population  that  liad  not  been  transplanted.  Over  this 
remnant  of  the  Jewish  commonwealth  was  placed  the 
leader  of  that  small  and  compact  party,  of  which  Jere- 
miah had  been  the  animating  spirit,  and  which  now 
reaped  the  reward  of  their  constant  support  of  the 
Chaldman  policy.  Gedaliah  was  fitly  chosen 

Gedaliah.  i i-*  p 

for  tlie  purpose.  Inheriting  the  traditions  of 
his  grandfather  Shaphan  and  of  his  father  Ahikam,  the 
steadfast  and  courageous  friend  of  Jeremiah,  he  was  a 
man  of  a generous,  genial  nature,  such  as  might  have 
rallied  the  better  spirits  of  his  countrymen  round  him, 
and  taken  the  place  of  the  fallen  dynasty.  The  new 
capital  was  to  be  at  Mizpeh.  This  ^^watch-tower”  or 
watching-place  ” was  a union  of  sanctuary  and  fortress, 
on  the  ridge  immediately  overlooking  Jerusalem  from 
the  northeast,  which  had  been  fortified  by  Asa  ^ as  an 
outpost  of  his  capital  against  the  northern  kingdom,  and 
where  Sennacherib  ^ in  earlier,  and  Titus  in  later  days, 
caught  their  first  view  of  the  Holy  City.  It  was  this 
peculiarity  of  position  which  probably  caused  its  selec- 
tion on  the  present  occasion.  From  these  heights  Jere- 
miah must  have  descended  to  pour  forth  his  Lamenta- 
tions, now  that,  for  the  first  time,  he  had  leisure  to  gaze 
on  the  full  desolation  of  the  city.  To  this  point  pil- 
grims flocked,  both  in  that  first  freshness  of  grief,  and 
afterwards  in  the  days  of  the  Maccabees,  as  the  earliest 

1 Joseph.  Ant.  x.  9,§  1.  3 Jga.  x.  32  ; Joseph.  B.  J.  ii.  19 

* 2 Kings  XV.  22  ; Jer.  xli.  9.  § 4 ; v.  2,  § 3. 


Ljsot.  XL. 


GEDALIAH. 


617 


Jewish  ^^wailing-place.”  ^ On  the  summit  of  the  hill 
was  Asa’s  fortress,  with  a deep  well  within  a high  en 
closed  court-yard,  dug  by  him  for  the  security  of  the 
garrison.  Here  Gedaliah  took  up  his  residence ; the 
throne,”  as  it  was  called,^  of  the  governor  on  this  side 

the  Euphrates.”  In  the  town,  at  the  foot  of  the  ridge, ^ 
were  lodged  the  Princesses  of  Judah,  under  the  charge  of 
a Chaldaean  guard ; perhaps  with  the  intention  that  one 
of  them,  by  marriage  with  Gedaliah,  should  carry  on 
the  royal  line.  Jeremiah  and  Baruch,^  who  shared  his 
master’s  good  fortune,  and  even  more  than  his  master’s 
ardor  for  submission  to  Babylon,  acted  as  the  guides 
and  oracles  of  the  whole  community. 

A momentary  revival  of  hope  shot  through  all  the 
scattered  remnants  of  J udah  that  were  still  within  reach 
of  this,  as  it  seemed,  beneficent  and  cheering  arrange- 
ment. It  was  now  more  than  a month  since  the  sad 
July  night  when  the  city  had  fallen.  From  the  other 
side  of  the  Jordan,  whither  many  had  succeeded  in 
escaping,  they  came  streaming  back,  to  store  in,  whilst 
the  bright  days  of  September  lasted,  such  remains  of 
the  vintage  and  harvest  and  crop  of  olives,  as  had 
escaped  the  ravages  of  the  Chaldoeans.  It  was,  in 
every  sense,  a Martinmas  summer,  could  it  but  have 
endured.  The  first  cloud  soon  arose,  which  was  again 
to  darken  the  whole  horizon.  Amongst  the  exiles  be- 
yond the  Jordan  was  a band  of  well-known  chiefs,  who 
were  attracted  by  Gedaliah’s  open-hearted  invitation, 
and  in  whom  it  awakened  a sentiment^  of  loyalty 
long  dead  amongst  the  Israelite  nobles.  Of  these  the 

1 Jer.  xli.  6,  7 ; 1 Macc.  iil.  46.  3 Jer.  xli.  10,  16. 

2 Neh.  iii.  7.  See,  for  many  details  **  Joseph.  Ant.  x.  9,  § 1. 

of  this  story,  Mr.  Grove  on  Ishmael  5 Ibid.  x.  9,  § 2 and  3. 

in  the  Diet,  of  the  Bible. 


618 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  1.1* 


most  conspicuous  were  Islimael,  leagued  closely  with 
Baalis,  King  of  Ammon,  and  Jolm  and  Jonathan/  who 
were  encamped  in  the  plains  of  Moab.  The  sight  of 
Gedaliah’s  position  excited  the  ambition  of  Ishmael, 
who,  relying  on  his  own  royal  descent,  and  on  the  sup- 
port of  his  friend  the  King  of  Ammon,  determined  to 
assassinate  the  good-natured  governor,  and  for  this  pur- 
pose took  the  other  chiefs  into  his  confidence.  They, 
with  John  at  their  head,  warned  Gedaliah  of  his  danger, 
and  John  proposed  to  anticipate  it  by  cutting  off  Ish- 
mael  himself  Gedaliah,  with  that  noble  frankness 
which  had  already  endeared  him  to  his  intended  sub- 
jects, repelled  alike  the  suspicion  and  the  offer. 

A month  elapsed,  and  the  fatal  day  arrived  which  was 
to  crush  all  these  newly  awakened  hopes.  Ishmael, 
with  ten  Ammonite  nobles,  as  it  would  seem,  again 
presented  himself  at  the  gates  of  the  fortress.  Jeremiah 
and  John  were  absent.  The  jovial  governor  enter- 
tained the  eleven  guests  at  a copious  feast,  in  which  he 
indulged  freely,  and  sank  overpowered  by  wine  into  a 
deep  slumber.^  That  moment  Ishmael  sprang  from  his 
seat  and  cut  the  throat  of  his  unsuspecting  host.  The 
night  had  now  closed  in,  and  the  eleven  assassins  stole 
out  into  the  town,  and  murdered  the  Chaldsean  guards 
and  their  Jewish  attendants.  The  secret  was  so  well 
kept  that,  on  the  next  day,  Ishmael  was  able  to  entrap 
within  the  court-yard  a body  of  eighty  pilgrims,  whom 
he  had  seen  coming  along  the  great  northern  road  from 
the  old  Samaritan  kingdom.  As  soon  as  the  gates  of 
the  court  ^ were  closed  behind  them,  like  the  Mamelukes 
in  the  citadel  at  Cairo,  they  were  attacked,  and  theii 
lead  bodies  thrown  into  Asa’s  deep  well.  Enriched 

1 Johanan.  3 Joseph.  Ant.  x.  9,  § 4. 

* Ibid. 


r^cT.  XL. 


murder  of  geoaliau. 


CIS 


with  their  gifts  and  with  the  hidden  stores  of  ten  whom 
he  allowed  to  escape,  he  again  descended  on  the  town, 
and  carried  olf  the  Princesses  and  their  guards,  in  the 
hope  of  reaching  the  court  of  Baalis.  At  Gibeon  or  at 
Hebron,  however,  he  was  overtaken  by  Johanan,  who 
had  flown  to  the  rescue,  and  succeeded  in  recovenng 
the  spoils  and  captives.  But  the  deed  was  done.  e 
one  chance  of  continuing  the  Jewish  settlement  in 
Palestine  was  cut  off.  Jeremiah’s  authority  for  a lew 
days  seemed  likely  to  withstand  the  panic.  At  the 
caravanserai  of  Chimhain  in  Bethlehem ' — the  natural 
halting-place  on  the  way  to  Egypt  — they  held  a council 
of  war ; and  there,  against  the  Prophet’s  advice,  fina  y 
determined  to  abandon  their  homes,  and  to  make  tor 
the  refuge,  to  which  the  worldly  Israelite  always  had 
recourse,  across  the  Egyptian  border. 

So  disastrous  did  this  step  appear  to  the  next  and 
to  all  subsequent  generations  of  Israel,  that  the  day 
of  Gedaliah’s  murder  has  been  from  that  time  forth 
and  to  this  day  observed  as  a national  fast.^  It  seemed 
to  be  the  final  revocation  of  the  advantages  of  t e 
Exodus  By  this  breach  in  their  local  continuity,  a 
chasm  was  made  in  the  history  which  for  good  or 
evil  was  never  filled  up.  The  sense  of  its  importance 
is  manifested  by  the  extreme  detail  — exceeding^  even 
that  of  the  overthrow  of  the  city  itself— wdh  which  it 
is  related  ; a striking  instance  of  the  sanguine  tenacity 
with  which  a Prophet  like  Jeremiah  could  gather  up 
every  fragment  and  particle  of  life,  and  hope  out  of 
it  to  create  and  reconstruct  the  whole  fabric  of  the 
Church  and  Commonwealth  of  Judah. 

On  Jeremiah  himself  the  history  closes,  as  he  is 

t Jer.  xli.  17  (Heb.).  See  Lecture  “ Zech.  vii.  6 ; vm.  19. 

XX  XVI. 


620 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  Xi* 


torn  from  his  native  land,  and  finds  himself  on  the  Egjp- 
Endof  uer-  frontier  at  Tahpenes.  Whether,  according 
emmh.  Christian  tradition,  he  was  stoned  to 

death  by  his  fellow-exiles  in  Egypt,  or  whether,  accord- 
ing to  the  Jewish  tradition,  he  made  his  escape  to 
Babylon,  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  and  Josephus  are 
equally  silent.  But  his  legendary  and  traditional  fame 
shows  how  large  a space  he  occupied  henceforward 
in  the  thoughts  of  his  countrymen.  More  than  any 
other  of  their  heroes,  he  becomes,  as  has  been  truly 
said,  the  Patron  Saint  of  Judea.  He  is  the  guardian 
of  their  sacred  relics ; carrying  off  with  him  the  sacred 
fire  from  the  altar;  ascending  the  mountain  of  Sinai 
“ where  Moses  climbed  up  and  saw  the  heritage  of 
“ God,”  and  there  in  a hollow  cave  he  lays  the  taber- 
nacle,  the  ark,  and  the  altar  of  incense,  and  closes 
‘^the  door  until  the  time  that  God  shall  gather  His 
people  again  together,  and  receive  them  into  mercy.” ^ 
He  appears  in  a vision  to  Judas  Maccabaeus,  ‘^•with 
gray  hairs,  exceeding  glorious,  of  a wonderful  and 
excellent  majesty,  with  a sword  of  gold  in  his  right 
^ hand,  — a gift  from  God  ” to  the  patriot  warrior, 
wherewith  he  shall  wound  the  adversaries.”^  That 
peculiar  intercessory  mediation  which  even  those  who 
most  feared  and  detested  him  believed  that  he  possessed 
in  life,  he  was  thought  to  exercise  with  yet  more  potent 
efficacy  after  his  death,  — a lover  of  the  brethren, 
who  prayeth  much  for  the  people  and  for  the  Holy 
•‘City,  Jeremiah  the  Prophet  of  God.”^  As  time 
rolled  on,  he  became  the  chief  representative  of  the 
whole  Prophetic  order.  By  some  he  was  placed  at 

3 2 Macc.  XV.  14 ; comp.  Jer.  xxi 
2 ; xlii.  2. 


i 2 Macc.  ii.  1-8. 
a Ibid.  XV.  13,  15,  16. 


END  OF  JERExMIAH. 


621 


I 

i 

! L?-ct.  XL. 

the  head  of  all  the  Prophets  in  the  Jewish  canon.^ 
His  spirit  was  believed  to  live  on  in  Zechariah  and 
in  all  the  Prophetical  writings  which  could  not  be 
traced  back  to  their  real  author.^  At  the  time  of  the 
Christian  era,  his  return  was  daily  expected.  He  was 
emphatically  thought  to  be  ^Hhe  Prophet”^  — ^Hhe 
Prophet  like  unto  Moses,”  who  should  close  the 
whole  dispensation. 

So  long  a trail  of  posthumous  fame  following  on 
so  long  a life  of  misunderstanding  and  persecution, 
and  perhaps  even  a death  of  martyrdom,  makes  Jere- 
miah stand  forth  from  the  whole  ancient  dispensation 
as  the  most  signal  instance  of  the  happy  inconsistency 
with  which  churches  and  nations  build  the  tombs  of 
the  Prophets  whom  their  fathers  have  stoned.  So: 
magnificent  a future,  following  on  a life  and  death  of 
such  continual  suffering,  introduces  a new  idea  into 
the  Prophetic  doctrine,  which  henceforth  assumes  pro- 
portions more  and  more  definite.  His  contemporaries 
can  have  hardly  failed  to  recognize  the  parallel  which 
Saadia  in  the  Jewish  Church,  and  Grotius  in  the  Chris- 
tian Church,  first  drew  out  at  length  between  the 
Servant  of  God,  ^Mespised  and  rejected  of  men  — a 
man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief,”  and  Jere- 
miah, led  as  a lamb  to  the  slaughter,”  laden  with  sor- 
rows to  which  no  human  sorrows  were  ever  like  — be- 
trayed by  his  friends,  ever  making  intercession  for  the 
transgressors,”  stricken  for  the  transgression  of  his 
people.”  The  martyrdom  of  Isaiah  in  the  reign  of 
Manasseh,  and  of  Urijah  in  the  reign  of  Jehoiakim, 
may  have  prepared  the  way  for  this  change  in  the 
Prophetic  visions  of  the  Messiah.  But  as  Jeremiah  was 

1 Lightfoot  on  Matt,  xxvii.  9.  3 Matt.  xvi.  14. 

* See  Note  A.,  p.  646. 


622 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  XL 


the  Prophet  ” who,  more  than  any  other,  seemed  to 
live  over  again  in  the  life  of  the  Prophet  of  Nazaretli, 
so  the  sorrows  of  Jeremiah,  more  than  those  of  any 
other  single  Prophet,  correspond  to  the  desertion,  the 
isolation,  the  tenderness,  the  death,  and  the  final  glorifi- 
cation of  the  Divine  Sufferer.^  His  ^'Lamentations,” 
though  not  reckoned  among  the  Prophetical  books  by 
the  Jewish  Church,  though  not  invoked  as  predictions 
by  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament,  yet  by  the 
sacredness  of  the  grief  which  they  depict,  by  the 
grandeur  of  the  Prophetic  character  which  they  rep- 
resent, are  not  unworthy  of  the  solemn  and  melan- 
choly use  to  which  they  have  been  consecrated  by  the 
Latin  Church  in  its  celebration  of  the  Passion  of 
Gethsemane  and  Calvary. 

With  Jeremiah  the  history  of  the  Jewish  monarchy, 
it  might  almost  be  said  of  the  Jewish  Church  and 
Commonwealth  in  the  fullest  sense,  is  brouorht 

Ezekiel.  i i ^ 

to  an  end.  But  there  still  remain  between 
the  verge  of  this  epoch,  and  the  beginning  of  the 
next,  one  at  least  — - it  may  be  others  also  — in  whom 
the  mission  of  Jeremiah  is  continued  for  a while, 
both  in  letter  and  in  spirit.  On  the  banks  of  the 
Chebar^  was  a colony  of  Jewish  exiles,  who  dated 
their  migration  year  by  year  from  the  captivity  of 
Jehoiachin,  and  who  seem  to  have  kept  up  a kind  of 
organization  like  that  which  existed  in  their  own 

1 Comp.  Jer.  xv.  15-18,  with  Isa.  fer  the  “Chebar”  to  one  of  the 
i.  5-8;  Jer.  xi.  19,  with  Isa.  liii.  7;  branches  of  the  Euphrates  in  the 
vii.  16,  xi.  14,  xiv.  11,  with  Isa.  liii.  neighborhood  of  Babylon.  Layard 
12;  Lam.  i.  12,  iii.  1,  5,  15,  19,  with  {Nineveh  and  Babylon^  p.  283)  ad 
Isa.  liii.  3,  4.  See  the  whole  parallel  heres  to  the  usual  identification  (borne 
workeG  out  by  Bunsen  {Gott  in  der  out  by  the  use  of  the  word  “ river  ”) 
(’.eschichle^  204-207).  with  the  Khabour 

* I'rofessor  Rawlinson  would  trans- 


Lxot.  XL 


EZEKIEL 


623 


country,  consisting  of  elders  or  chiefs  who  acted  os 
the  representatives  of  the  rest.  Amongst  these  was 
conspicuous  Ezekiel  the  son  of  Buzi.  Like  Jeremiah, 
he  was  a Priest  as  well  as  a Prophet,  but  with  the 
Priestly  element  more  largely  developed ; and  also 
one  step  farther  removed  from  the  ancient  Prophets, 
inasmuch  as  he  is  the  first  in  whom  the  author  and 
the  writer  entirely  preponderate  over  the  seer,  the 
poet,  and  the  statesman.^  The  scroll  and  the  inkhorn, 
which  we  see  only  from  time  to  time  in  Jeremiah, 
is  never  absent  from  Ezekiel.  The  speeches  or  odes 
of  the  earlier  Prophets  have  been  preserved,  accord- 
ing to  the  original  character  of  their  utterance,  in 
scattered  fragments ; Ezekiel’s  first  constitute  a book, 
arranged  in  regular  chronological  order  from  begin- 
ning to  end.  The  atmosphere  which  he  breathes, 
the  visions  by  which  he  is  called  to  his  office,  are  alike 
strange  to  the  older  period ; no  longer  Hebrew,  but 
Asiatic ; no  longer  the  single,  simple  figure  of  cloud, 
or  flame,  or  majestic  human  form,  which  had  been 
the  means  of  conveying  the  truth  of  the  Divine 
Presence  to  Moses  or  Isaiah,  but  a vast  complexity, 
^Svheel  within  wheel,”  ^ as  if  corresponding  to  the 
new  order  of  a larger,  wider,  deeper  Providence  now 
opening  before  him.  The  imagery^  that  he  sees  is 
that  which  no  one  could  have  used  unless  he  had 
wandered  through  the  vast  halls  of  Assyrian  Palaces, 
and  there  gazed  on  all  that  Assyrian  monuments 
have  disclosed  to  us  of  human  dignity  and  brute 
strength  combined,  — the  eagle-winged  lion,  human- 
headed bull.^  These  complicated  forms  supplied  the 

1 See  Ewald,  Prophelen^  ii.  208.  3 Ezek.  i.  6-11. 

2 Ezek.  16-22.  ^ Compare  Layard,  Nineveh  av,i 

Babylon^  448,  464 


624 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM 


LfCT  XL, 


vehicle  of  the  sublime  truths  that  dawned  upon  him 
from  amidst  the  mystic  wheels,  the  sapphire  throne, 
the  amber  fire,  and  the  rainbow  brightness.  It  is  the 
last  glimpse  of  those  gigantic  emblems,  which  vanished 
in  the  Prophet’s  lifetime,  only  to  reappear  in  our  own 
age,  from  the  ruins  of  the  long-lost  Nineveh. 

Later  traditions  fondly  identified  him  with  his 
Mesopotamian  home.  In  them  he  was  represented 
as  foretelling  the  flood  of  the  river  by  which  they 
were  encamped ; and  as  judging  the  tribes  of  Gad 
and  Dan.  He  was  buried  in  state  near  Babylon,  in 
a sepulchre  which  has  for  centuries  been  visited  by 
Jewish  pilgrims,  who  believe  that  it  was  erected  by 
Jehoiacliin,  and  that  the  lamp  which  still  burns  upon 
it  was  lighted  by  Ezekiel  himself^  But,  according 
to  the  Prophet’s  own  record  of  his  life,  his  heart  was 
not  in  the  land  of  his  exile,  but  in  the  land  of  his 

nativity.”  His  own  home,^  where  he  dwelt  with  his 
wife,  and  guided  the  counsels  of  the  small  community 
of  the  Chebar,  faded  from  his  eyes.  Across  the  rich 
garden  of  that  fertile  region,  across  the  vast  Euphrates, 
across  the  intervening  desert,  his  spirit  still  yearned 
towards  Jerusalem,  still  lived  in  the  Temple  courts, 
where  once  he  had  ministered.  Though  an  exile  he 
was  still  one  with  his  countrymen ; and  in  the  sense 
of  that  union,  and  in  the  strength  .of  a mightier  power 
than  his  own,  the  bounds  of  space  and  time  were  over- 
leaped, and  during  the  seven  years  that  elapsed  before 
the  city  was  overthrown,  he  lived  absorbed  in  the 
Prophetic  sight  of  the  things  that  were  to  be,  and 
in  the  Prophetic  hearing  of  the  words  that  were  to 
be  spoken,  in  this  last  crisis  of  his  country’s  fate. 

* Chron.  Pasch.  158, 159;  Layard,  2 Ezek.  viii.  1 ; xxiv.  16. 

Nineveh  and  Babylon^  500. 


I^CT.  iLLi. 


EZEKIEL. 


625 


In  the  presence  of  the  impending  catastrophe,  he 
was  amidst  his  fellow-exiles,  exactly  as  Jere-  Hisprophe- 
miah  amidst  his  fellow-citizens.  An  imshak- 
able  courage  and  confidence  was  needed  to  bear  up 
against  the  words  and  looks  of  fury  with  which  each 
was  assailed.  Each  of  the  two  prophets,  without  com- 
municating with  the  other,  is  the  echo  of  the  other’s 
sorrow.^  Deep  answers  to  deep  across  the  Assyrian 
desert;  the  depth  of  woe  in  him  who,  from  the  walls 
of  Zion,  saw  the  storm  approaching,  is  equalled,  if 
not  surpassed,  by  the  depth  of  woe  in  him  who  lived, 
as  it  were,  in  the  skirts  of  the  storm  itself — ^Hhe 
whirlwind,  the  great  cloud,  the  fire  unfolding  itself 
^^from  the  north  gathering  round  the  whole  horizon 
before  it  reached  the  frontiers  of  Palestine.  Not  only 
in  his  words,  but  in  his  acts,  he  was  to  be  a perpetual 
witness  of  the  coming  desolation.  Now  he  might  be 
seen  portraying  on  a tile  all  the  details  of  the  siege 
of  the  city  then  again  he  would  lie  stretched  out 
motionless,  for  more  than  a year,“^  like  one  crushed 
to  the  ground  under  the  burden  of  his  people’s  sins. 
At  other  times,  he  was  to  be  seen  stamping  with  his 
feet,  and  clasping  his  hands,  in  the  agony  of  grief,  or 
stirring  a huge  caldron,^  as  if  of  the  scum  of  his  coun- 
try’s misery.  Then  again  he  would  fix  their  attention 
by  acts  most  abhorrent  to  his  nature  and  his  priestly 
calling.  He  cut  off,  lock  by  lock,  the  long  tresses  of 
his  hair  and  beard,®  the  peculiar  marks  of  his  sacerdotal 
office,  and  one  by  one  threw  them  into  the  fire.  He 
ate  the  filthy  food,^  which  belonged  only  to  the  worst 


1 “ Velut  si  duo  cantores  alter  ad 
alterius  vocem  se  comparent  ” (Cal- 
vin). 

2 Ezek.  i.  4 ; comp.  Jer.  xxlil.  1 9 ; 
Jdvii.  2. 


3 Ezek.  iv.  1. 

4 Ibid.  Iv.  5. 

5 Ibid.  xxlv.  3-11. 
® Ibid.  V.  1. 

7 Ibid.  iv.  12. 


VOL.  II. 


40 


626 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM 


Lzct.  XL 


extremity  of  famine.  Ami  last  of  all,  when  the  fatal 
day  arrived,  when  the  armies  of  Nehuchadnezzar  had 
gathered  round  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  tlie  last  and 
most  awful  sign*  was  given  to  show  how  great  and 
how  irresistible  was  the  calamity.  On  the  evening 
of  thiit  day  his  wife  died.  The  desire  of  his  eyes 
was  taken  liorn  him  by  a sudden  stroke.  And  yet 
when  the  sun  lose,  and  as  the  hours  of  the  day  passed 
on,  he  appeared  in  public  with  none  of  the  frantic 
tokens  of  Oriental  grief  He  raised  no  piercing  cry 
for  the  dead;  he  shed  not  a tear;  the  turban,  which 
should  have  been  dashed  in  anguish  on  the  ground, 
■was  on  his  head ; the  feet  that  should  have  been  bare 
were  sandalled  as  usual.  He  did  in  all  things  as  he 

W’ould  have  done  had  no  calamity  overtaken  him 

himself  the  living  sign  and  personification  of  a grief 
too  deep  for  tears,  too  terrible  for  any  funereal  dirge 
either  to  arrest  or  to  express.  Well  might  the  roll 
which  was  placed  in  his  hand  seem  to  ■ be  “ written 
“within  and  without  with  lamentations,  and  mourn- 
“ ing,  and  woe.”^ 


But  as  111  the  case  of  Jeremiah,  so  in  the  case  of 
Ezekiel,  there  was  the  sweetness  as  of  honey  mingled 
with  the  bitterness  of  his  griefs  What  had  appeared 
in  germ  in  the  writings  of  Jeremiah  was  repeated 
in  a fuller  shape  by  Ezekiel.  He  is  the  disciple,  such 
as  has  often  been  seen  both  in  philosophy  and  theology, 
carrying  out  into  their  most  startling  consequences 
the  principles  barely  disclosed  by  the  teacher.  He 
His  moral  Well  as  Jeremiah  is  a Prophet  especially  of 


ual  doc 

heart.^ 


the  Second  Law — of  the  law  written  in  the 
He  too  reviews  the  history  of  the 

; ^ *9;  -iii.  31  ; comp 

Jer.xxxi.33.  ^ 

5 Ibid.  lii.  3 


f-.ECT.  XL. 


EZEKIEL. 


627 


Chosen  People,  and  has  the  courage  to  treat  them 
like  any  other  people;^  to  point  out  the  natural  and 
ethnological  origin^  of  the  Holy  City, — Amorite  and 
Hittite  by  birth,  — the  failure  even  of  the  ancient 
rite  of  circumcision^  as  a safeguard  for  the  nations 
which  had  adopted  it.  He  too  is  the  witness  of  the 
dispensation  of  the  Spirit;  he  sets  forth,  in  language 
which  belongs  rather  to  the  coming  than  the  depart- 
ing epoch,  the  magic  transformation  of  himself,  of 
his  country,  of  its  dead  institutions,^  by  the  Spirit  ” 
which  breathes  through  all  his  visions ; the  Breath  of 
Life  which  was  in  the  utmost  complexity^  of  that 
Divine  mechanism,  in  the  utmost  variety  of  those 
strange  shapes,  through  which  he  was  called  to  his 
mission.  But  the  form  in  which  this  doctrine  acquires 
in  his  hands  the  newest  development  is  that  of  the 
responsibility  of  the  individual  soul  separate  from 
the  collective  nation,  separate  from  the  good  or  ill 
deserts  of  ancestry.  The  note  which  is  struck®  for 
a moment  by  Jeremiah  is  taken  up  by  Ezekiel  with 
a force  and  energy  which  makes  his  announcement 
of  it  ring  again  from  end  to  end  of  his  writings.  It 
is  to  be  found  in  those  familiar  words  which  the 
Church  of  England  has  placed  at  the  head  of  its 
ritual : When  the  wicked  man  turneth  away  from 

^^his  wickedness,  and  doeth  that  which  is  lawful  and 

right,  he  shall  save  his  soul  alive.”  Other  Prophets 
have  more  of  poetical  beauty,  a deeper  sense  of  divine 
things,  a tenderer  feeling  of  the  mercies  of  God  for 
His  people ; none  teach  so  simply,  and  with  a sim- 

1 Ezek.  XX.  5-44  ; comp.  Jer.  vii.  '*  Ezek.  xxxvi.  2 ; comp.  Jer.  xxxl 

21-25.  3. 

2 Ibid.  xvi.  3.  5 Ibid.  i.  20,  21,  20,  27,  28. 

3 Ibid,  xxxii.  29,  32  ; comp.  Jer.  6 Ibid,  xviii.  1 ; comp.  Jer.  xxxi 

,x.  25,  26.  29,  30. 


628 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


I.ECT.  XI. 


plicity  the  more  remarkable  from  the  elaborate  im- 
agery out  of  which  it  emerges,  this  great  moral  les- 
son, to  us  the  first  of  all  lessons.^  In  the  midst  of 
this  national  revolution,  when  the  day  of  mercy  is 
past,  and  when  no  image  is  too  loathsome  to  describe 
the  iniquities  of  Israel,  the  Prophet  is  not  tempted  to 
demand  the  destruction  of  the  righteous  wuth  the 
v/icked,  nor  the  salvation  of  the  wdcked  for  the  sake 
of  the  righteous.  He  contemplates  the  extremest 
case  of  the  venerable  patriarchs  of  former  ages,  or 
perhaps  of  his  own,  — Noah,  Daniel,  and  Job,^  — and 
yet  feels  that  even  they  could  save  neither  son  nor 
daughter;  they  shall  but  deliver  their  own  souls  by 
their  righteousness.  He  blames  equally  those  false 
teachers  who  make  the  heart  of  the  wicked  glad 
whom  the  Lord  hath  not  made  glad,  and  those  who 
make  the  heart  of  the  righteous  sad  whom  the  Lord 
hath  not  made  sad.^  ^‘The  doctrine  of  substitution,” 
in  any  form,  is  unknown  in  the  teaching  of  Ezekiel. 
The  old  Mosaic  precept  of  the  visitation  of  the  sins 
of  the  fathers  upon  the  children,  had  become  popular- 
ized into  the  proverb  afloat  both  in  Jerusalem  and 
in  Chaldma,  that  the  fathers  have  eaten  sour  grapes, 
^Land  the  children’s  teeth  are  set  on  edge.”  But  in 
spite  of  its  own  authority  and  its  acceptance  by  his 
countrymen,  and  although  containing  a partial  truth, 
it  is  put  to  flight  before  Ezekiel’s  announcement  of 
the  still  loftier  principle,  All  souls  are  God’s ; as  the 
‘‘soul  of  the  father,  so  is  the  soul  cl  the  son.  The 
'‘soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die.  He  that  hath  with- 
‘ drawn  his  hand  from  iniquity  ...  he  is  just ; he 
“ shall  surely  live.”  ^ 

1 Professor  Jowett  on  the  Epistles  ^ Ezek.  xiii.  22. 

8t.  Paul,  ii.  334.  ^ Ibid,  xviii.  4,  8,  9 

2 Ezek.  xiv.  14,  20. 


Leer.  XI4. 


EZEKIEL. 


629 


In  words  like  these,  both  before  and  after  the  fall  of 
his  country,  the  mighty  soul  of  the  Priestly  Prophet 
poured  itself  out.  How  startling  a doctrine  to  his 
own  generation  is  evident  from  the  iron  firmness 
which  was  needed  to  proclaim  it;  a forehead  of  ada- 
mant, harder  than  flint, ^ a heart  never  dismayed.  How 
startling  to  the  Jewish  Church  of  after  times  we  learn 
from  the  narrow  escape  which  this  wonderful  book  sus- 
tained, on  this  very  account,  of  exclusion  from  the 
sacred  canon  altogether.  The  Masters  of  the  Syna- 
gogue hesitated  long  before  they  could  receive  into 
the  sacred  writings  a Prophet  who  seemed  boldly  to 
contradict  the  very  Pentateuch^  itself;  and  even  when 
they  received  it,  attempted,  it  is  said,  to  rewrite  his 
burning  words,  in  order  to  bring  them  into  accordance 
with  the  popular  theology  of  their  day.  It  is  hardly 
possible  to  overrate  the  vast  importance  of  this,  the 
last  expiring  cry  of  the  Jewish  monarchy,  which,  both 
from  its  indispensable  connection  with  the  very  founda- 
tion of  Christian  doctrine,  and  from  the  supernatural 
energy  of  its  inspiration,  may  be  truly  called  the  Gospel 
according  to  Ezekiel.  Nor  is  its  universal  significance 
impaired,  because  it  is,  we  may  say,  wrung  out  of  him 
by  the  cruel  necessities  of  the  age,  at  once  their  con- 
solation and  their  justification.  In  ordinary  times,  the 
mutual  dependence  of  man  on  man,  the  control  of  cir- 
cumstances, the  hereditary  contagion  of  sin  and  misery, 
fall  in  with  the  older  view  which  Ezekiel  combats.  But 
it  is  the  special  use  of  such  critical  calamities  as  that  of 
the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  that  they  reveal  to  us  in  a higher 
and  still  more  important  sense  the  absolute  indepen- 
dence of  man  from  man  ; the  truth  that  we  ar(3  not 


Ezek.  ii.  6 ; iii.  8. 


2 See  Spinoza’s  Tractatus  theo/og- 
ico-politicus,  ii.  49. 


630 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lict.  KL 


merely  parts  of  a long  chain  of  circumstances  wliich 
cannot  be  broken,  but  that  we  must  each  one  live  for 
himself  and  die  for  himself  It  is,  in  fact,  the  doctrine 
bound  up  in  the  very  idea  of  Ezekiel’s  mission.  As 
in  his  own  person  he  had  exhibited  the  necessity  of 
the  judgment  that  was  to  fall  on  the  nation  at  large, 
so  he  set  forth  in  his  own  person  the  inalienable  free- 
dom of  each  individual  conscience  and  will.  In  the 
pressure  of  famine  and  captivity  without,  and  of  cor- 
ruption and  idolatry  within,  the  mere  fact  of  such 
a Prophet  existing  at  all  was  a proof  that  the  human 
mind  and  spirit  was  not  entirely  crushed.  ^^Liberavi 
animain  meam”  is  but  the  modern  version  of  the  still 
sublirner  words,^  — Thou  shalt  speak  my  words  unto 
‘^them,  whether  they  will  hear  or  whether  they  will 
forbear ; and  they  shall  know  that  there  hath  been 
a prophet  among  them.” 

On  this  narrow  but  solid  plank  of  the  doctrine  of 
human  responsibility,  Ezekiel  crossed  the  chasm  which 
divided  the  two  parts  of  his  eventful  life.  It  is  almost 
the  last  doctrine  which  we  hear  announced  before  his 
country  fell.  It  is  the  first  that  meets  us  as  he  recovers 
from  the  shock  after  all  is  over.^ 

In  his  prophecies  of  his  own  country,  a long  silence 
succeeds  to  his  eager  remonstrances  and  piercing  lamen- 
rhe  dirge  tations.  The  interval  is  filled  by  strains  of  sor- 

nations.  row  and  exultation  over  the  fall  of  the  nations. 
The  overthrow  of  the  Jewish  monarchy  coincides  with 
the  overthrow  of  those  primeval  states  which  had 
hitherto  occupied  the  attention  of  mankind.  During 
the  preceding  century,  the  Jewish  Prophets  had  pre- 
pared the  way  for  the  final  catastrophe  of  the  oldest 
historic  world,  much  as  the  Christian  Fathers  had 

1 Hzek.  ii.  5-8.  2 Ezek.  xvlii.  1-32;  xxx-ui.  11-i‘O. 


Lkct.  XL. 


EZEKIEL. 


631 


heralded  the  downfall  of  the  second  fabric  of  civilization 
in  the  Greco-Roman  world.  The  seers  of  Judah 
watched  the  progress  of  the  invader,  and  uttered  their 
sublime  funereal  anthems  over  the  greatness  of  each 
^independent  tribe  or  monarchy,  as  it  was  swallowed 
up  first  in  the  empire  of  Assyria  and  then  of  Chaldaea. 
They  were  like  the  tragic  chorus  of  the  awful  drama 
which  was  unfolding  itself  to  the  Eastern  world.”  ’ 
This  dirge,  it  may  be  said,  reached  its  highest  pitch  in 
the  Prophecies  of  Ezekiel.  In  the  twilight  interval 
dividing  the  hopeless  gloom  of  the  Captivity  from  the 
first  dawn  of  the  Restoration,  is  pronounced  the  doom 
of  the  several  tribes  of  Western  Asia  by  the  armies  of 
Nebuchadnezzar  — of  Ammon,  Moab,  Edom,  Fail  of  the 
Philistia,  Damascus.^  It  may  be  truly  said  that  syrS.^ 
they  then  passed  away  and  were  no  more  seen  amongst 
the  nations  of  the  earth.  Edom  lingers  the  longest, 
but  even  Edom  leaves  his  original  seat  and  becomes  a 
colony  rather  than  a kingdom.  The  others  disappear 
forever. 

Tyre  also,  the  most  imperial  city  of  Syria,  stretching 
back  into  times  before  the  first  Israelite  set 
foot  west  of  the  Jordan,  now  vanishes  from  the 
scene  of  history.  The  mere  city,  indeed,  lasted  not 
only  through  the  classical  times,  but  far  into  the  middle 
ages,  and  as  a small  town  exists  even  at  the  present 
day ; but  as  a state  and  as  an  empire  it  fell  under  the 
pressure  of  the  Babylonian  conquest.  For  the  last 
time,  through  the  piercing  eyes  of  Ezekiel,  we  see  the 
Queen  of  ancient  commerce,  in  all  her  glory,  under  the 
figure  of  one  of  her  own  stately  vessels,  sailing  proudly 
over  her  subject  seas,  with  the  fine  linen  of  Egypt 

1 Milman’s  History  of  the  Jewsfi.  2 Ezek.  xxv.  1-17;  comp.  Jer. 


632 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect.  XI> 


for  her  white  sails,  with  the  purple  from  the  isles  of 
Greece  for  the  drapery  of  her  seats,  with  merchant 
princes  for  her  pilots  and  her  mariners^  We  see  her 
suddenly  overtaken  by  the  storm  from  the  East,  and 
foundering  in  her  final  shipwreck,  amidst  a wail  of  de- 
spair and  anguish  from  all  the  coasts  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean. In  that  bitter  wail  over  the  fall  of  so  much 
splendor  even  in  a rival  heathen  state,  the  Prophet 
joins,  with  a grief  second  only  to  that  which  he  and 
Jeremiah  had  poured  forth  on  the  overthrow  of  their 
own  country.^ 

But  his  view  extended  farther  still  as  the  grave  of 
Fall  of  As-  nations  yawned  and  widened  before  his 

Syria.  . eyes.  Into  that  deep  abyss  the  gigantic  form 
of  the  Assyrian  Empire  had  fallen  with  a sudden  crash, 
like  that  of  an  aged  cedar  of  Lebanon,  the  sound  of 
which  made  the  nations  to  shake.^  Into  that  grave 
many  a wild  horde  of  Northern  Asia  had  descended  or 
was  descending  under  the  sword  of  successive  con- 
Faii  of  querors.^  And  now  into  that  same  dark  pol- 

Egypt.  luted  place  was  to  descend  a power  loftier  and 

more  venerable  than  any  of  them.  Egypt,  the  most 
civilized  of  the  kingdoms,^  so  long  marked  off  by  her 
ancient  ceremonial  from  the  surrounding  tribes,  sharing  ^ 
like  Tyre  and  Israel  in  the  once  proud  distinction  of 
circumcision,  so  careful  in  her  punctilious  cleanliness 
and  her  august  burials,  was  to  be  dragged  forth  like  the 
dying  crocodile,®  the  huge  monster  of  her  own  sacred 
river ; to  be  cast  out  with  the  unclean  bloodstained 
corpses  of  the  battle-field ; to  be  hurled,  not  into  her 

1 Ezek.  xxvii.  1-24.  See  Kenrick’s  5 Ezek.  xxxii.  18-21,  31,  32.  See 
PJicenicia,  196.  the  germ  of  this  in  Jer.  xlili.  11,  12 

a Ezek.  xxvii.  26-36.  xlvi.  13-24. 

^ Ibid.  xxxi.  3-1  7 ; xxxii.  22,  23.  ® Ezek.  xxxii.  2-6  (Heb.). 

4 Ibid,  xxxii.  24-28. 


Lcct.  XL. 


EZEKIEL. 


633 


own  deep  repose  in  painted  sepal clire  or  massive  pyra- 
mid, but  into  the  unhallowed  promiscuous  pit,  side  by 
side  with  the  uncircumcised  and  uncivilized  races  of  the 
decaying  and  dishonored  past.  Egypt,  as  a country,  as 
a kingdom,  as  a church,  has  never  failed ; but  as  the 
oracular  empire  of  the  hoary  ages  of  the  ancestors  of 
the  human  race,  it  died  then  to  revive  no  more. 

Over  against  this  sepulchre  of  the  nations  sate  the 
Prophet  uttering  his  v/ild  lamentations ; a strain,  if  at 
times  mingled  with  the  old  hatred  ” ^ of  the  neighbor 
tribes,  yet  for  those  older,  statelier  empires,  rather  of 
sorrow  than  of  vengeance.  One  final  catastrophe  was 
yet  to  come,  before  the  funereal  procession  of  kingdoms 
was  closed.  But  the  fall  of  Babylon  was  not  for  Eze- 
kiel to  see,  or  even  to  predict.  It  belongs  to  the  open- 
ing scenes  of  that  new  epoch,  to  which,  across  the  gulf 
that  parts  the  old  from  the  new,  we  pass  with  him  as 
our  only  guide. 

So  marked  is  the  separation,  so  completely  had  he 
lived  a life  in  those  few  years  and  weeks  of  suspense 
and  of  grief,  that,  in  the  Jewish  traditions,  his  Prophet- 
ical writings  were  regarded  as  two  separate 

„ ° , His  revival. 

works,  it  was  on  a day  much  to  be  remem- 
bered by  the  exiles  on  the  Chebar,  in  the  twelfth  ® 
year  of  their  captivity,  in  the  tenth  month,  on  the  fifth 
^^day  of  the  month,”  that  an  unusual  movement  stole 
over  the  Prophet’s  soul.  For  a whole  year,  ever  since 
the  commencement  of  the  investment  of  the  city,  coin- 
ciding with  the  fatal  blow  which  blasted  his  cwn  domes- 
tic life,  he  had,  as  far  as  his  countrymen  were  com 


1 Ezek.  XXV.  15.  Jelioiacliin’s  captivity  might  still  be 

2 Joseph.  Ant  x.  5,  § 1.  reckoned  as  the  “ eleventh”  of  Zede- 

3 Ezek.  xxxiii.  21.  Some  MSS.  kiah’s  reign.  In  this  case  the  result 
read  “ eleventh  year.”  But  this  is  would  be  the  same. 

hardly  needed.  The  twelfth  year  of 


634 


THE  FALL  OF  JEIIUSALEM. 


Lect  SX* 


cerned,  remained  speechless.  On  the  sunset  which, 
according  to  the  Jewish  reckoning,  began  that  day,  he 
suddenly  found  words  again ; “ his  mouth  was  open  and 
^•he  was  no  more  dumb;”  the  presentiment  grew 
stronger;  and  at  last,  at  dawn,  a fugitive  from  Jerusalem 
broke  into  his  presence  with  the  tidings  : “ The  city  is 
“ smitten.”  The  worst  was  now  realized  ; the  Holy  City 
was  captured  ; the  kingdom  of  David  was  no  more.  It 
might,  perhaps,  have  been  thought  that,  if  possible,  a 
deeper  note  of  misery  would  have  been  awakened  in 
Ezekiel’s  heart.  But  it  is  not  so.  From  that  moment 
Ezekiel’s  prospect  brightens.  It  was  not  merely,  as  in 
the  instance  of  David’s  mourning  for  his  child,  that  the 
natural  course  of  grief  had  spent  itself,  and  that  cer- 
tainty was  better  than  suspense.  It  was  that  the  view 
itself  changed.  Once  again  the  hand  of  the  Lord  was 
upon  him  and  set  him  down  in  the  midst  of  the  wide 
open  plain  of  Mesopotamia.  In  that  desert  tract  was 
the  sight  so  familiar  to  passers  through  the  wilderness,- 
— bones  and  skeletons  of  man  and  beast,  dry  and 
bleaching  on  the  yellow  sands,  the  remnants  of  some 
vast  caravan  leavins:  behind  it  its  fifties  and  its  hundreds 
to  perish  of  hanger  or  weariness  ; or  the  burial-place  of 
some  wild  tribe  or  some  mighty  host  of  ancient  days, 
whose  remains,  long  covered  by  the  dust,  some  passing 
whirlwind  had  revealed  to  view.  Round  these  dry  and 
lifeless  relics,  the  Prophet  was  in  his  vision  bid  to  walk 
to  and  fro,  and  to  utter  the  loud  chant  of  his  Prophetic 
utterances.  He  prophesied,  and  as  his  voice  sounded 
through  the  stillness  of  the  desert  air,  there  was  an 
answering  peal  as  of  thunder,  and  the  hard  dry  earth 
shook  under  his  feet,  and  the  bones  came  together,  and 
the  sinews  and  the  flesh  once  mere  crept  over  them,  and 
they  lay  still  dead  and  lifeless,  but  like  the  corpses  of  a 


Lect.  XL. 


EZEKIEL. 


635 


vast  multitude  from  whom  breath  has  just  departed. 
Again  he  raised  his  wild  chant,  and  the  wind  ^ on  which 
he  himself  had  been  borne  was  swelled  as  by  a rushing 
blast  from  the  four  corners  of  the  wilderness,  and  the 
corpses  lived  and  stood  on  their  feet,  and  the  lonely 
desert  was  peopled  with  an  exceeding  great  army. 
Even  without  the  Divine  interpretation  which  followed, 
the  meaning  of  the  vision  was  clear.  Those  bones  in 
the  desert  were,  indeed,  an  apt  emblem  of  the  race  of 
Israel,  scattered,  divided  each  from  each,  their  bones 
dried,”  their  hope  lost.”  ^ That  revival  — the  pledge 
and  likeness  of  all  revivals  for  all  future  ages  — was  a 
fit  likeness  of  that  to  which  they  were  now  to  look  for- 
ward, when  the  grave  of  their  captivity  would  be 
opened,  when  the  skeleton  of  Judaism  would  come  out 
from  its  tomb,  and  be  inspired  with  the  invigorating 
blast  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  and  be  clothed  with  fresh  and 
living  beauty.  Yet  more  encouraging  is  the  closing 
vision  of  the  Prophet’s  life.  Again,  as  in  his  earlier 
days,  but  now  with  a wholly  different  purpose,  the  same 
Divine  hand  seizes  him,  and  transports  him  to  his  native 
country.  In  the  visions  of  God  he  stands  on  the  sum* 
init  of  a high  mountain,  and  there  is  revealed  to  him 
the  mysterious  plan  of  a city  and  Temple,  exactly  cor- 
responding to  that  which  he  had  known  in  his  youth, 
even  down  to  minute  details,  but  on  a gigantic  scale. 
And 'from  under  the  Temple  porch  he  sees  the  peren- 
nial spring  which  lay  hid  within  the  rocky  vault  burst 
forth  into  a full  and  overflowing  stream,^  which  pours 
down  the  terraces  towards  the  Eastern  gate.  The 

1 Ezek.  xxxvii.  1,  5,  8,  9,  10.  The  2 Ezek.  xxxvii.  11. 

same  Hebrew  word  is  in  the  A.  V.  ^ The  germ  of  this  tliought  had 

rendered  by  “ spirit,”  “ wind,”  and  already  appecired  in  Zcch.  xiii.  I 
breatli.’'  xiv.  8. 


636 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lbcf.  XL 


dry  bed  of  the  Kedron  is  filled  with  a mighty  torrent, 
which  rises  higher  and  higher  till  it  becomes  a vast 
river,  and  the  rugged  and  sterile  rocks  whkh  line  its 
course  break  out  into  verdure,  and  through  the  two 
deep  defiles  the  stream  divides  and  forces  its  way  into 
the  desert  plain  of  the  Jordan,  and  into  the  lifeless 
waters  of  the  Salt  Sea,  and  the  Sea  of  Death  begins  to 
teem  with  living  creatures  and  with  innumerable  fish, 
like  the  Sea  of  Tiberias  or  the  Mediterranean,  and  the 
fishermen  stand  all  along  its  banks  to  watch  the  trans- 
formation,^ and,  according  to  the  sight  so  common  in 
Eastern  countries,  the  life-giving  water  is  everywhere 
followed  by  the  growth  of  luxuriant  vegetation,  — ^Hrees 
‘‘for  food,  whose  leaf  shall  not  fade,  neither  shall  the 
“ fruit  thereof  be  consumed.”  ^ 

How  the  outward  form  of  that  vision  was  left  to  pass 
away,  how  its  inward  spirit  was  fulfilled  beyond  all  that 
Ezekiel  could  have  dreamed,  is  the  story  reserved  for 
the  next  epoch  of  the  Jewish  history,  but  is  yet,  not 
dimly,  foreshadowed  even  in  Ezekiel’s  own  lifetime. 

One  other  voice  begins  to  make  itself  heard  as  Eze- 
kiel’s words  die  a way — a “ voice  rather  than  a living 

man — the  last  swanlike  song  of  the  Prophets  of  the 
monarchy — a voice  sounding  in  the  barren  wilderness 
between  the  Captivity  and  the  Return,  between  Baby- 
bn  and  Jerusalem.  It  is  that  wonderful  strain^  which, 
by  likeness  of  thought  and  language  seems  a continua- 
tion of  the  great  Isaiah,  by  its  connection  with  the 
sufferings  and  the  fall  of  the  nation  links  itself  to  the 
fortunes^  of  Jeremiah  or  of  Baruch,  and  by  its  mysteri- 

1 Ezek.  xlvii.  5,  6,  7,  8,  9 (Heb.).  1 — v.  9.  Grotius  on  Isa.  liii.  See 

2 Ezek.  xlvii.  12.  also  Bunsen’s  argument  connecting 

3 Isa.  xl.  3,  6.  this  portion  of  Isaiah  with  , Baruch 

* Ibid,  xl.— Ixvi.  (Gott  in  der  Geschichte^  207-221). 

5 Compare  Ezra  i.  1 ; Baruch  iii. 


Lkct.  XL. 


THE  SECOND  ISAIAH. 


637 


ous  origin  and  independent  character  well  claims  the 
title  of  the  Great  Unnamed.”  ^ 

Those  six  and  twenty  chapters  of  the  Book  of  Isaiah 
— the  most  deeply  inspired,  the  most  truly 

^ P 1 -r^  1 . 1 The  second 

Evangelical  or  any  portion  oi  the  Prophetical  portion  of 
writings,  whatever  be  their  date,  and  whoever 
their  author  — take  their  stand  on  the  times  of  the 
Captivity,  and  from  thence  look  forward  from  the  sum- 
mit of  the  last  ridge  of  the  Jewish  history  into  the  re- 
motest future,  unbroken  now  by  any  intervening  barrier. 

Both  worlds  at  once  they  view, 

Who  stand  upon  the  threshold  of  the  new. 

The  warfare  of  Jerusalem  is  already  accomplished.”  ^ 
“ She  has  received  of  the  Lord’s  hand  double  for  all  her 
‘^sins.”  ^^The  princes^  of  the  sanctuary  are  profaned.” 
“The  holy  land  is  waste  and  desolate.”  “Zion  is  for- 
“ saken  and  forgotten.”  ^ “ The  holy  cities  are  a wilder- 

“ ness,  Zion  is  a desolation,  Jerusalem  is  a desolation.” 
“The  holy  and  beautiful  house  wherein  their  fathers 
“had  worshipped  is  burned  up  with  fire,  and  all  their 
“ pleasant  things  are  laid  waste.”  ^ This  is  the  retro- 
spect to  which  the  Prophet  looks  back.  The  times  not 
only  of  Manasseh  but  of  Jehoiachin  and  Zedekiah  are 
far  behind  him.  The  exiles  to  whom  he  appeals  are 
already  planted  in  Babylon ; to  them,  and  not  to  any 
former  generation  of  Israelites,  is  the  consolation  ad- 
dressed, which  streams  in  one  continuous  flow,  uninter- 
rupted by  the  multiplied  incidents  which,  on  the  right 


1 So  Ewald,  Propheten  (ii.  pp.  403  4 Isa.  xliv.  26,  28  ; H.  3 ; Ixii.  4 

-410)  ; Geschichte  (iv.  pp.  55-58),  xlix.  14,  19,  21. 

‘ Der  grosse  Ungenannte.”  ® Ibid.  Ixiv.  10,  11;  lil.  9.  Comp 

2 Isa.  xl.  2.  • Ibid.  24,  Hi.  2. 

3 Ibid,  xliii.  28. 


638 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


LiEcr.  XU 


hand  and  the  left,  had  broken  the  course  of  the 
earlier  Prophetic  appeals.  From  this  bondage  of  the 
Captivity  a new  Exodus  is  to  begin  for  the  Chosen 
People  — a new  return  through  the  wilderness.  But 
this  revival  of  Isaiah’s  spirit,  this  new  epoch  for  Israel, 
is  to  coincide  with  a new  epoch  in  the  history  of  the 
world.  The  primeval  period  of  mankind  is  drawing  to 
its  close ; the  ancient  gigantic  monarchies  and  religions, 
known  to  us  only  through  their  mighty  conquerors,  or 
their  vast  monuments,  are,  as  we  have  seen,  passing 
away ; the  great  catastrophe  which  is  to  wind  up  their 
long  career,  the  fall  of  Babylon,  is  already  imminent. 
Cyrus.  And  in  the  place  of  this  giant  age  is  to  begin 
B.  c.  560.  second  period  of  history,  which  we  term 

classical.  Its  commencement  may  be  fixed  almost  to  a 
year.  It  is  witli  the  clearest  right  that  the  first  date  of 
the  Fasti  Hellenici,”  the  Grecian  annals  of  our  English 
chronologer,  is  fixed  in  the  year  560.  It  is  the  date  of 
the  accession  of  the  two  famous  potentates  in  Greece 
and  amongst  the  Grecian  colonists,  from  whose  reigns 
commences  our  distinct  knowledge  of  Grecian  life  and 
literature,  — Pisistratus  at  Athens,  Croesus  at  Sardis. 
It  is  the  date  which  coincides  with  the  appearance  of 
the  first  authentic  characters  of  Homan  history  in  the 
reign  of  the  Tarquins.  From  this  time  forward  that 
Western  world  of  Greece  and  Home  rises  more  and  more 
steadily  above  the  horizon,  till  it  occupies  the  whole 
view.  It  was  a true  insight  into  the  inmost  heart  of 
this  vast  movement,  which  caused  the  Prophet  to  see 
in  it  not  merely  the  blessing  of  his  own  people,  but  the 
union  of  the  distant  isles^  of  the  Western  Sea  with  the 
religion  hitherto  confined  to  the  uplands  of  Asia.  And, 
further,  in  the  East  itself,  the  time  was  come,  when 

1 Isa.  xlv.  1 ; lx.  9. 


Lbct.  XL.  THE  SECOND  ISAIAH.  f39 

from  beyond  the  northern  mountains  the  power  was  tc 
descend  which  should  accomplish  this  vast  catastrophe. 
To  that  power  — not  merely  to  the  quarter  of  the 
world,  or  to  the  nation,  or  to  the  hour,  but  to  the  man 
— did  the  Prophetic  indications  of  this  period  point; 
with  a significance  worthy  of  the  grandeur  of  the 
occasion.  One  such  had  arisen,  — in  that  same  great 
year,  the  year  560,  just  twenty  years  after  the  Jewish 
exile  had  begun,  — Koresh  or  Cyrus,  the  Persian.  On 
him  the  expectation  of  the  nations  was  fixed.  Concern- 
ing him  the  question  rose  whether  he  would,  like  the 
chiefs  and  princes  of  former  times,  be  a mere  transient 
conqueror?  or  would  he  indeed  be  the  deliverer  who 
should  inaugurate  the  fall  of  the  old  and  the  rise  of  the 
new  world  ? ■ ^ . 

Out  of  the  darkness  of  suspense  came  the  welcome 
answer  which  marked  him  out  as  the  One  Anointed 
Hero^  — alike  of  the  Chosen  People  and  of  all  the 
nations  of  the  then  known  world.  Amply  was  that 
Prophetic  intimation  justified.  To  us,  looking  back  at 
the  crisis  from  a distance  which  enables  us  to  see  the 
whole  extent  of  the  new  era  which  he  was  to  open,  the 
fitness  of  Cyrus  for  the  place  which  the  Prophet  assigns 
to  him  is  full  of  meaning.  The  history  of  the  civilized 
world  was  entering  on  an  epoch,  when  the  Semitic  races 
were  to  make  way  for  the  Indo-Germanic  or  Aryan 
nations,  which  were  thenceforth  to  sway  the  fortunes 
of  mankind.  With  those  nations  Cyrus,  first  of  Asiatic 
potentates,  was  to  be  brought  into  close  relation.  With 
Greece  henceforward  the  destinies  of  the  P^ersian  mon- 
archy would  be  inseparably  united.  Nay,  of  all  the 
nations  of  Central  Asia,  Persia  alone  was  of  the  same 
^tock  as  the  Greco-Roman  and  Germanic  world.  Cyrus, 


1 Isa.  xlv.  1. 


640 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lkct.  XT;. 


first  of  tlie  great  men  whom  Scripture  records,  spoke 
the  tongue  not  of  Palestine  or  Assyria,  but  of  the  races 
of  the  West.  First,  too,  of  the  ancient  conquerors, 
Cyrus  is  known  to  us  as  other  than  a mere  despot  and 
destroyer.  It  can  hardly  he  without  ground  that  he 
who,  by  the  Hebrew  Prophet,  was  hailed  not  merely  as 
a liberator  and  benefactor  of  Israel,  but  as  an  inaugu- 
rator  of  a reign  of  Righteousness  and  Truth,  should,  in 
Grecian  literature,^  alone  of  the  barbarian  kings,  have 
been  represented  as  the  type  of  a just  and  gentle 
Prince.  In  contact  also  with  Cyrus  the  Israelite  found, 
for  the  first  time  in  the  heathen  world,  not  a temptation 
to  idolatry,  but  a protection  of  that  belief  in  the  Unity 
of  God,  which  now  as  never  before  began  to  take  hold 
of  the  national  mind.  Of  all  the  Gentile  forms  of  faith 
the  religion  of  the  Persians  was  the  most  simple  and 
the  most  spiritual.  Their  abhorrence  of  idols  ^ was 
pushed  almost  to  fanaticism.  In  Egypt,  the  scattered 
statues  and  broken  temples  still  bear  witness  to  the 
furious  zeal  of  Cambyses.  In  Greece,  the  approach 
of  Xerxes  to  Delphi  was  the  invasion  not  merely  of  a 
hostile  army,  but  of  a band  of  terrible  iconoclasts.  And 
so  the  advent  of  Cyrus  was  now  hailed  by  the  Prophet 
as  the  doom  of  the  gigantic  idols  of  Babylon  which 
should  totter  ^ and  fall  before  his  approach : the  bitter 
scorn  with  which  the  old  Polytheism  was  assailed  by 
the  Israelite  captives  was  strengthened  by  the  cor- 
responding scoffs  which  it  awakened  in  the  Persian 
conquerors. 

Such  was  the  outward  framework  of  the  prospect 

• 

1 Xenophon’s  Cyropasdia.  Herodotus,  i.  131.  Comp.  Rawlin- 

2 “ They  have  no  images  of  the  son’s  Herodotus^  vol.  i.  Essay  5. 
gods,  no  temple.s,  no  altars,  and  con-  3 Isa.  xHv.  9-20;  xlv.  5,  6,  7 ; xlvi 
rider  the  use  of  them  a sign  of  folly.”  1,  2 ; xlvii.  1,  4 ; Baruch  vi.  4-73  ; 

Bel  and  the  Dragon,  19-27. 


Lect.  XL 


THE  SECOND  ISAIAH. 


which  opened  before  the  Prophet’s  mind.  The  prospect 
itself  was  vaster  and  wider  still.  It  is  the  same  as  that 
of  Ezekiel,  but  cleared  almost  entirely^  from  that  ma- 
terial imagery  of  priestly  ritual  and  stately  sanctuary, 
of  fierce  war  and  sweeping  conquest,  with  which  Eze- 
kiel’s visions  were  so  deeply  tinged.  It  expands  into 
the  pure  and  bright  anticipations  of  a reign  of  Love 
and  Justice,  which  needs  hardly  any  outward  figure  to 
represent  it.^  In  the  past,  not  the  regal  magnificence 
of  David  and  Solomon,  but  the  patriarchal  simplicity  of 
Abraham,  and  the  grand  Prophetic  march  of  Moses/ 
furnish  the  grounds  of  hope.  In  the  foreground  of  the 
future  stands  not  the  Euler,  or  Conqueror,  but  the 

Servmxt  ” of  God,  gentle,  purified,  suffering  — whether 
it  be  Cyrus  whom  He  had  anointed;  or  Jacob  whom 
He  had  chosen,^  His  people  with  whom  after  all  their 
affliction  He  was  well  pleased;  or  Jeremiah  and  the 
Prophetic  order,  the  victim  of  their  country’s  sins,  led 
as  a lamb  to  the  slaughter;®  or  One,®  more  sorrowful, 
more  triumphant,  more  human,  more  divine,  than  any 
of  these,  the  last  and  true  fulfilment  ‘of  the  most 
spiritual  hopes  and  the  highest  aspirations  of  the 
Chosen  People.  In  the  remoter  horizon  is  the  vision  of 
a gradual  amelioration  of  the  whole  human  race,'  to  be 
accomplished  not  solely  or  chiefly  by  the  seed  of  Israel, 
but  by  those  outlying  nations  which  were  but  just 
beginning  to  take  their  place  in  the  world’s  history. 
In  the  strains  of  triumph  which  welcome  the  influx  of 
these  Gentile  strangers,  we  recognize  the  prelude  of  the 

I The  exceptions  are  Isa.  Ixiii.  1-  5 Ha.  lii.  13;  liii.  7.  Comp.  Jer. 

6 ; Ixvi.  20-23.  xi.  19. 

3 Isa.  Ivii.  13-21;  lx.  17;  Ixi.  11.  6 Ha.  liii.  1-12;  Matt.  viii.  17; 

3 Ibid.  xli.  S;  li.  2;  Ixiii.  11-14.  xii.  18;  Luke  iv.  18;  Acts  viii.  32. 

4 Ibid.  xliv.  1,  28;  xlv.  1 ; xlix.  3-  7 Ha.  xlix.  1,  6,  12;  1.  22,  23; 

lx.  1-22;  Ixi.  1-11. 


f- 


VOL.  II. 


41 


642 


THE  FALL  OF  JERUSALEM. 


Lect  XL 


part  which  in  the  coming  fortunes  of  the  Jewish  Church 
is  to  be  played  not  only  by  Cyrus,  and,  if  so  be,  Zoroas- 
ter, but  by  Socrates  and  Plato,  by  Alexander  and  by 
CaBsar.  It  has  been  truly  observed  that  the  new  ele- 
ments which  Christendom  received  from  the  Greek,  the 
Roman,  and  the  Teutonic  world  were  almost  as  impor- 
tant as  those  which  it  received  from  the  Jewish  race. 
Its  European,  as  distinguished  from  its  Asiatic  features, 
form  one  of  the  main  characteristics  which  raise  it  both 
above  Judaism  and  Mahometanism.  To  have  recog- 
nized and  anticipated  this  truth  is  the  rare  privilege  of 
the  Evangelical  Prophet. 

This  is  the  dawn  of  the  new  epoch  of  Jewish  and  of 
universal  history;  full  of  misgivings  and  doubts,  such 
as  have  beset  every  great  revolution  in  human  opinions 
and  institutions.  But  in  the  chill  of  that  new  dawn, 
amidst  the  jjerplexities  of  that  untried  situation,  amidst 
the  ruins  of  those  ancient  empires,  in  the  eager  ex- 
pectation of  those  unknown  changes  — the  first  words 
which  break  the  silence,  and  of  which  the  strains  echo 
through  the  whole  of  the  next  period  of  the  history, 
and  through  its  endless  consequences,  are  those  of  the 
mighty  and  mysterious  Teacher,  Prophet  and  Psalmist 
both  in  one ; ^ the  key-note  not  only  of  the  revived 
and  transformed  Israel,  but  of  the  rising  world  of  Asia 
and  Europe,  and  of  the  Christendom  of  a still  remoter 
future  : — 

Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye,  my  people. 

The  comfort  is  of  that  enduring  kind,  which  is  solid  now 
as  when  it  was  first  uttered.  It  is  the  expectation  of 
constant,  though  unequal,  progress  towards  perfection ; 
the  disappearance  of  present  difficulties  before  the  in- 


1 Isa.  xl.  1,  2,  4,  31. 


Lect.  XL 


THE  SECOND  ISAIAH. 


643 


creasing  light  and  energy  of  the  fresh  genei'ations  of 
mankind ; the  confidence  that  this  continued  advance 
Is  the  cause  of  God  Himself 

The  voice  of  one  that  crieth  in  the  wilderness, 

Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lonl ; 

Make  straight  in  the  desert  a highway  for  our  God.  . . . 

Every  valley  shall  be  exalted,  and  every  mountain  shall 
be  made  low ; 

And  the  crooked  shall  be  made  straight,  and  the  rou:?? 
places  plain ; . . . 

They  that  wait  on  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength ; 

They  shall  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles ; 

They  shall  run  and  not  be  weary  ; 

'i'hey  shall  walk  and  not  faint 


NOTE  A. 


ON  ISAIAH  XL.— LXVL 

I SUBJOIN  very  briefly  the  facts  relating  to  the  second  portion 
rjf  Isaiah.,  xl. — Ixvi.,  which  compel  us  to  consider  it  apart  from 
the  earlier  portion  (i. — xxxv.). 

1.  Between  these  twof  portions  a strong  line  of  demarcation  is 
drawn  by  the  interposition  of  the  historical  chapters,  xxxvi. — 
xxxix.  Whatever  be  the  date  of  the  respective  parts,  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  they  are  entirely  distinct  compositions. 

2.  The  style  of  the  concluding  portion,  though  in  many  re« 
spects  similar  to  the  earlier  chapters,  differs  essentially  in  its  ease 
and  continuous  flow. 

3.  The  differences  of  language  are  variously  stated  by  Orien- 
talists. But  by  the  most  distinguished — such  as  Ewald  and 
Gesenius  — they  are  stated  to  be  distinctly  marked. 

4.  The  subjects  of  thought  which  are  prominent  in  the  con- 
cluding division  are  new,  if  not  in  themselves,  yet  in  the  propor- 
tions which  they  occupy  ; such  as  the  constant  recurrence  of  “ the 
Servant  of  God,”  and  the  glories  of  the  enlarged  Church  of  the 
future  Jerusalem. 

5.  All  the  allusions  presuppose  that  Jerusalem  (not  is  to  be, 
but)  has  been  already  destroyed ; that  the  persons  to  be  consoled 
(not  will  be,  but)  are  already  in  exile  (see  the  passages  cited  in 
Lecture  XL.  p.  637)  ; that  Babylon  (not  will  be,  but)  is  in  the 
height  of  her  power ; and  that  Cyrus  and  his  conquests  are 
(not  merely  foreseen  in  some  distant  future,  but)  already  well 
known. 

6.  Except  in  Ivi.  9 — Ivii.  12  (which  has  all  the  appearance 
of  an  earlier  fragment  incorporated),  there  is  no  allusion  to  the 
peculiar  customs  of  Palestine  under  the  monarchy  ; and  no  ref- 
erences to  the  Assyrian  invasion  or  the  other  historical  circum- 
stances, which  mark  the  reigns  of  Hezekiah  and  of  Manasseh. 


646 


ON  ISAIAH  LX.— LXVI 


7.  A few  parallels  may  be  adduced  from  Micali’s  allusions  to 
the  Captivity  ; but  they  differ  in  this  material  point,  that  Micah 
(iv.  10)  speaks  of  it  as  still  to  come,  Isaiah  (xl.  2,  xlvii.  1,  xlviii. 
14,  20)  as  already  far  advanced. 

8.  The  continuous  and  elaborate  style  confirms  the  supposi- 
tion that  the  book  belongs  to  the  period  when,  as  we  see  in 
Ezekiel,  the  speaker  and  the  actor  were  exchanged  for  the 
writer.  (See  Lecture  XL.) 

9.  The  order  of  the  Books  in  the  Babylonian  Talmud  con- 
firms the  supposition  that  there  were  believed  to  be  in  the  Book 
of  Isaiah  portions  of  a date  subsequent  to  Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel : 
— 1.  Jeremiah;  2.  Ezekiel;  3.  Isaiah;  4.  The  Twelve  Minor 
Prophets. 

10.  In  Ezra  i.  1 it  is  not  Isaiah,  but  Jeremiah,  who  is  quoted 
as  having  foretold  the  deliverance  by  Cyrus  ; and  this  is  the 
more  remarkable  when  contrasted  with  the  later  version  of  the 
same  events  in  Josephus  (^Ant.  xi.  1,  § 2),  who  expressly  cites 
Isaiah  as  the  author  of  the  predictions  which  induced  the  act  of 
Cyrus. 

11.  The  amalgamation  of  the  two  Prophets  would  be  suffi- 
ciently explained,  either  by  the  well-known  practice  of  Eastern 
scribes,  of  combining  together  two  or  more  works,  following  each 
other  in  the  same  collection,  or  by  the  undoubted  occasional  like- 
ness of  style  between  the  first  and  second  portions. 

12.  Similar  instances  of  agglomerating  several  works  under 
the  same  name  are  to  be  found,  probably  in  the  Prophecies  of 
Zechariah,  certainly  in  the  Psalter  of  David,  and  in  the  Twelve 
Minor  Pi;>phets  (called  in  the  Babylonian  Talmud  by  the  single 
name  of  “the  Fourth  Later  Prophet  ”). 

13.  In  Mark  i.  2,  3,  according  to  the  best  MSS.,  the  Proph- 
ecies not  only  of  Isa.  xl.  3,  but  of  Mai.  iii.  1,  are  included 
under  the  name  of  “ Isaiah  the  Prophet,”  — an  exact  parallel  to 
the  amalgamation  in  question. 

It  is  true  that  these  peculiarities  may  be  explained  by  the 
hypothesis  of  an  ecstatic  transportation  of  the  earlier  Prophet  out 
of  his  own  time  into  the  middle  of  the  next  century.  But  such 
a hypothesis  is  without  any  other  example  in  the  Scripture»s 
Even  granting  the  interpretation  of  the  Book  of  Daniel  and  of 


AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  BOOKS  OF  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT.  G47 


the  Apocalypse  which  makes  those  two  books  predict  minutely 
historical  events  of  the  remotest  future,  yet  in  each  case  the 
position  in  which  the  Prophet  is  placed  is  that  of  his  own  time,  — 
Daniel  at  Babylon,  St.  John  at  Patmos ; whereas  the  Isaiah  of 
the  second  portion  (xl. — Ixvi.)  is  altogether  removed  from  the 
reign  of  Hezekiah  or  Manasseh,  and  the  practical  appeals  of  his 
prophetic  office  would  be  as  unmeaning,  if  addressed  to  the 
Jews  of  that  period,  as  they  are  full  of  instruction,  when  con- 
sidered as  addressed  to  the  Jews  of  the  period  of  the  Captivity. 
The  second  portion  of  the  Prophecies,  as  having  been  for  so 
many  ages  incorporated  with  the  first,  and  as  partaking  so 
largely  of  the  style  and  spirit  of  Isaiah,  can  still  be  called  by 
his  name.i  But  the  essential  connection  of  these  Pro])hecies 
with  the  period  of  the  Captivity  is  a fact  which  must  equally 
remain,  whatever  opinion  we  form  of  their  date  or  their  author. 


NOTE  B. 

ON  THE  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  BOOKS  OF  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT. 

The  question  raised  in  the  preceding  Note  is  connected  with 
one  of  a more  general  character ; namely,  the  apportionment  of 
the  dates  and  authorships  of  many  of  the  Sacred  Books. 

One  of  the  most  striking  differences  between  the  existing 
histories  of  the  Jewish  people  and  those  of  Greece  and  Rome  is 
their  anonymous  character.  Whereas  the  Classical  historians, 
almost  without  exception,  claim  their  books  for  themselves,  the 
Sacred  historians,  almost  without  exception,  leave  their  names 
undisclosed.  For  a long  time  this  was  unperceived,  owing  to 
the  groundless  assumption  that  the  subject  of  a book  must 
necessarily  be  the  author  of  it ; and  that  therefore  Moses, 
Joshua,  Samuel,  and  Job  must  have  written  the  books  which 
bear  their  names,  even  although  their  own  deaths  are  recorded 
therein.  This  mode  of  argument  was  confined  to  Sacred  criti- 
cism. It  was  never  imagined,  in  classical  literature,  that  the 

' As  in  Joseph.  Ant.  xi.  1,  2;  Ecclus.  xlviii.  24;  Matt.  iii.  3;  Mark  i.  2,3;  Luke  iv  17 
Rom.  X.  13,  30 


648 


ON  THE  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  BOOKS 


“ Odyssey  ” was  written  by  Ulysse^i,  or  the  “ JSneid  ” by  ^neas 
It  is  now  generally  abandoned  in  regard  to  Sacred  literature  also_ 
and  the  singular  self-abnegation  of  the  Sacred  historians  has  pro- 
portionally been  brought  into  light. 

A more  delicate  question  is  opened  by  the  discovery,  not  only 
that  man}’-  of  the  Sacred  books  have  no  known  author,  but  that 
in  single  books  different  elements  from  various  sources  are  com- 
bined. This  detection  of  the  composite  nature  of  the  Hebrew 
writings,  though  sometimes  pushed  to  excess  by  the  German 
critics,  is  nevertheless  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  certain 
results  of  their  labors.  The  telescope  of  scholarship  has  re- 
solved  what  before  were  dim  nebulous  clusters  into  their  separate, 
distinct  stars  ; and  there  are  very  few  of  the  books  of  the  Old 
Testament  which  have  not  received  additional  light  from  this 
restorative  process.  Almost  all  the  historical  writings  partake 
of  this  complex  character.  The  Pentateuch  in  the  earlier 
period,  the  Books  of  Samuel,  Kings,  Chronicles,  and  Ezra  in  the 
latter  period,  are  now  universally  acknowledged,  in  their  present 
state,  to  be  the  work  of  several  hands. 

When,  from  these  great  historical  compilations,  we  pass  to  the 
Prophets  and  Psalmists,  the  case  is  somewhat  altered.  Here, 
for  the  most  part,  the  anonymous  character  of  the  Historical 
books  is  exchanged  for  the  avowed  authorship  of  the  Prophetic 
writers.  Even  in  the  lost  Historical  works,  the  names  of  the 
Prophets  who  composed  them  were  for  the  most  part  known. 
And  no  one  doubts  that  the  Prophecies  of  Hosea,  Joel,  Amos, 
Micah,  Obadiah,  Nahum,  Ezekiel,  Haggai,^  were  written  by  the 
Prophets  whose  names  they  bear  ; or  that  a considerable  portion 
of  the  Psalter  of  David  and  of  the  Prophecies  of  Isaiah,  Jere- 
miah, and  Zechariah,  were  written  by  those  whose  names  have 
been  by  long  custom  associated  with  them.  But  in  these  latter 
cases  it  has  happened,  by  a confusion  which  has  frequently 
attended  ancient  writings,  in  proportion  to  the  eminence  of  their 
authors,  and  the  complexity  of  their  contents,  that  they  have 
gradually  embraced  fragments  of  other  writings,  which,  whether 
from  a similarity  of  style  or  name  or  subject,  have  been  regarded 

1 I have  excepted  “ Malachi,”  only  because  of  the  doubt  which  exists  as  to  the  exact 
•aeaning  of  the  title. 


OF  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT. 


649 


as  akin  to  them.  The  most  remarkable  instance  is  the  Psalter. 
As  far  back  as  the  Christian  era,  this  whole  collection  went 
under  the  name  of  “ David.”  As  such  it  is  constantly  quoted 
in  the  New  Testament.  As  such  it  was  received  by  the  most 
illustrious  of  the  Fathers,  Augustine  and  Chrysostom.  As  such 
it  is  introduced  into  our  own  Prayer-book.  This  uniformity  of 
authorship  in  the  Psalms  has  now  been  generally  abandoned. 
Not  only  are  the  most  various  authors  and  ages  admitted  by  all 
scholars  into  this  once  exclusively  Davidic  dominion,  but  even 
the  time-honored  titles,  which  were  long  received  as  essential 
parts  of  the  Canonical  Scriptures,  and  which  unquestionably 
represent  the  oldest  tradition,  are  now  generally  treated  as  un- 
certain in  date  and  unauthentic  in  substance.^  The  consequence 
has  been  an  universal  recognition  of  that  wonderful  variety  of 
situation  and  character,  which  gives  to  the  Psalter  one  of  its 
chief  outward  charms.^ 

The  same  process  of  disintegration  and  restoration,  with  the 
same  happy  results,  has  been  carried  on  with  regard  to  the  other 
books  to  which  I have  referred.  The  two  most  signal  instances 
are  Zechariah  and  Isaiah.  In  the  case  of  Zechariah,^  a suspicion 
has  long  been  awakened,  that  in  company  with  the  undoubted 
works  of  the  Prophet  of  that  name,  who  lived  after  the  Captivity 
(Zech.  i. — viii.),  have  been  arranged  Prophecies  of  an  earlier 
date  (ix. — xiv.),  from  the  hand  of  one  or  more  Prophets, 
whose  works  have  been  confounded  with  the  writings  of  the  later 
teacher.  They  were  quoted  by  the  Evangelist  St.  Matthew 
(xxvii.  9)  under  the  name,  not  of  Zechariah  but  of  Jeremiah. 
In  our  own  Church,  this  diversity  of  authorship  has  been  drawn 
out  at  length  by  Mede,  Hammond,  and  Archbishop  Newcome  ; 
and  in  Germany,  though  there  is  still  a division  of  opinion  on  the 
subject,^the  great  preponderance  of  authority  is  in  favor  of  the 
divided  origin  of  the  book.  A similar  result  has  been  obtained, 
as  we  have  seen,  by  a more  careful  study  of  the  Prophecies  of 
Isaiah.'^  It  has  been  urged  that  here  the  work  of  an  unknown 

1 I ought  to  except  the  attempted  vin-  has  ventured  so  far  in  defence  of  the  tradi- 
dication  of  the  authenticity  of  the  titles  by  tional  belief, 
the  Bishop  of  Natal  {Pentateuch  and  Book  2 gge  Lecture  XXV. 

'jf  Joshua  critically  examined^  Part  II.).  ® See  Lectures  XXXV  , XXXVII . 

but  probably  no  other  critical  investigator  4 See  Lecture  XL.,  and  Note  A. 


650 


ON  TUE  AUTUORSHIP  OF  TIJE  BOOKS 


later  Prophet,  including  the  whole  of  the  latter  section  of  the 
book  (xl. — Ixvi.),  has  been  bound  up  with  the  writings  of  the  ear- 
lier Prophet  of  the  times  of  Hezekiah.  This  opinion,  though  n(>t 
dating  back  so  far  as  that  which  advocates  the  variety  of  author^ 
ship  in  the  Psalms  and  in  Zechariah,  has  received  a still  more 
decided  support  from  the  chief  Hebrew  scholars  of  the  Continent. 

These  attempts  to  discover  the  real  authors  of  the  books, 
which  popular  tradition  has  wrongly  assigned  to  great  names,  are 
sometimes  invidiously  treated  as  attacks  on  the  authority  and 
genuineness  of  their  writings. 

It  ought  to  be  needless  to  say,  that  the  authority^  or  canonicity^ 
of  a sacred  book  hardly  ever  depends  on  its  particular  date  or 
name.  If  for  these  purposes  it  was  necessary  that  the  writers 
should  be  knowm,  nearly  half  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament 
would  at  once  be  excluded  from  the  canon.  And  as  the  second 
portion  of  Zechariah  cannot  lose  its  authority  from  its  being  of 
an  earlier  date  than  has  been  commonly  supposed,  so  neither  can 
the  fifth  portion  of  the  Psalter,  or  the  second  portion  of  Isaiah, 
lose  their  authority  from  being  later  than  the  reigns  of  David  or 
Hezekiah.  The  discovery  of  diversity  of  authorship  in  the 
Prophecies  of  Isaiah  has  been  termed  “ the  undeifying  of  Isaiah.” 
But,  even  granting  the  “ deification  ” of  Isaiah  to  be  in  itself  a 
desirable  object,  it  cannot  surely  be  attained  by  so  accidental  a 
circumstance  as  the  mere  outward  arrangement  of  the  writings 
which  now  bear  his  name ; nor  can  any  of  these  inspired 
Prophets  be  “ undeified  ” or  degraded  from  any  glory  which  is 
their  due  by  a mistake  in  their  titles,  still  less  by  giving  to  each 
his  proper  place,  and  by  adding,  if  so  be,  a new  personage  t^ 
that  goodly  fellowship,  which  assuredly  gains  rather  than  loses 
by  the  increase  of  its  members,  and  by  the  better  understanding 
of  the  time  and  occasion  of  its  utterances. 

So  also  the  question  of  genuineyiess,  properly  speaking,  can 
only  arise  in  regard  to  a work  wdiich  avowedly  claims  for  itself  a 
false  author.  The  later  portions  of  the  Psalter  and  of  Isaiah 
are,  for  the  most  part,  as  anonymous  as  the  Books  of  Ruth  or  of 
Chronicles,  or  as  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews.  It  is  no  forgery 
which  is  detected,  but  the  oversight  of  some  ancient  Hebrew 
collector  or  Christian  expositor,  who  has  united  in  one  roll  the 


OF  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT. 


65i 


writings  of  Iwo  different  authors.  In  the  Homeric  controversy, 
no  one  would  think  of  chargino;  those  who  believe  that  the 
“ Iliad  ” and  the  “ Odyssey  ” were  the  works  of  two  poets,  with 
a denial  of  the  genuineness  of  either  poem.  It  is  much  to  be 
regretted,  that  in  the  critical  controversies  of  theology  there  has 
been  a temptation,  on  both  sides,  needlessly  to  impute  reprehen- 
sible motives ; as  when,  on  the  one  hand,  the  innocent  endeavors 
to  detect  the  real  authorship  of  disputed  works  have  been 
branded  as  sinister  attacks  on  their  character ; and,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  Sacred  writers  themselves  have  been  blamed  for  a con- 
fusion that  has  only  taken  place  long  after  their  deaths.  The 
Psalms  of  the  Captivity  are  not  less  genuine  and  authentic  be- 
cause they  have  been  classed  with  the  Psalms  of  David,  nor  the 
Prophecies  of  the  older  Zechariah  because  they  have  been 
classed  with  those  of  the  younger,  nor  the  Prophecies  of  the 
younger  Isaiah  because  they  have  been  classed  with  those  of  the 
older. 

There  is  indeed  another  province  of  disputed  authorship  into 
which  the  question  of  genuineness  and  spuriousness  more  prop- 
erly enters.  It  has  been  said  that  “ to  write  any  book  under 
“ the  name  of  another,  and  to  give  it  out  to  be  his,  is,  in  any 
“ case,  a forgery,  dishonest  in  itself,  and  destructive  of  all  trust- 
“ worthiness.”  But  even  this  remark  needs  much  qualification. 
Though  aimed  against  those  who  question  the  commonly  received 
date  of  the  Book  of  Daniel,  it  falls  really  with  far  greater  force 
on  the  vast  multitude  of  divines  who  question  the  Solomonian 
authorship  of  “ the  Wisdom  of  Solomon.”  That  book  repeatedly 
claims  to  be  written  by  Solomon,  was  maintained  to  be  so  by 
many  of  the  Fathers,  and  was  by  them  honored  as  such  with  a 
veneration  equal  to  that  which  they  paid  to  Scripture.  And 
yet,  although  this  belief  is  now  universally  abandoned  in  all  Prot- 
estant countries,  “ the  Book  of  Wisdom  ” is  still  treated,  at 
least  by  the  Anglican  and  Lutheran  Churches,  with  reverence 
and  admiration,  and  its  lofty  strain  of  religious  morality  is  not 
thought  to  be  impugned  by  the  recognition  of  the  fictitious 
character  of  its  author.  But,  in  fact,  neither  in  the  case  of  the 
Book  of  Wisdom,  or  (if  recent  criticisms  should  prove  correct) 
of  the  Book  of  Daniel  or  of  Ecclesiastes,  would  such  a censure 


652  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  BOOKS  OF  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT. 


be  just,  because  there  is  no  proof  tliat  this  assumption  of  a great 
name  was  anything  more  than  part  of  the  plan  of  the  work  ; and 
it  would  be,  or,  at  least,  if  we  had  all  the  circumstances  before 
us,  it  might  be,  as  absurd  to  charge  the  writers  of  these  Sacred 
Books  with  forgery,  because  they  wrote  in  the  names  of  Solomon 
or  Daniel,  as  to  apply  the  term  to  Cowper’s  verses  on  Alex- 
ander Selkirk,  or  Burns’s  address  to  the  army  at  Bannockburn, 
because  those  poems  were  not  written  by  Selkirk  or  Robert 
Bruce,  in  whose  mouths  they  are  placed. 

In  all  these  questions,  the  first  and  chief  duty  of  the  critic  is 
to  judge  without  respect  of  persons ; to  deal  the  same  measure 
to  the  Book  of  Isaiah  that  we  deal  to  the  Psalter,  — to  the  Book 
of  Daniel  that  we  deal  to  the  Book  of  Wisdom.  The  books  of 
Scripture  only  suffer  from  being  subjected  to  requirements  whicli 
we  have  ceased  to  apply  to  the  books  of  common  literature. 
Biblical  critics  must  be  called  to  decide  whether  the  137th  Psalm 
is  of  the  age  of  David  or  of  the  Captivity ; whether  the  Book  of 
Daniel  should  be  ascribed  to  the  age  of  the  Captivity  or  of  the 
Maccabees ; whether  the  Book  of  Wisdom  was  written  at  Jeru- 
salem or  at  Alexandria.  But,  in  the  interests  alike  of  truth  and 
of  charity,  it  is  much  to  be  desired,  that  Religion  should  not  be 
staked  on  the  issue ; and  that  those  who  submit  their  under- 
standings to  what  seem  to  them  the  facts  of  the  case  should  be 
allowed  to  do  so  without  being  exposed  to  the  charge  of  wilful 
blindness  or  of  impious  presumption.  “ The  Faith  can  receive 
“ no  real  injury  except  from  its  defenders.”  “ No  book  can  be 
“ written  in  defence  of  the  Bible  like  the  Bible  itself ; ” and, 
therefore,  whilst  we  know  that  the  eternal  and  essential  elements 
of  Religion  cannot  be  affected  by  any  critical  investigations,  we 
shall  eagerly  welcome  any  light  which  can  be  thrown  on  tluj 
structure  or  the  meaning  cf  the  Sacred  Books,  which  have 
already  gained  so  much  from  a closer  study  of  their  contents. 


INDEX 


I 


i ) .! 


Abderrahman,  307. 

Abner,  4,  6,  21,  32,  35,  86. 

Absalom,  128,  130,  139. 

Achish,  68,  77. 

Adonijah,  188. 

Agag,  slaughter  of,  25. 

Ahab,  316. 

his  repentance,  347. 

his  death,  350. 

Ahaz,  505. 

Ahithophel,  130,  138. 

Altar  of  David,  149. 

of  Elijah,  332. 

of  Solomon,  230. 

Amalekite  war,  24. 

Ariiasa,  32,  139, 145. 

Amaziah,  479. 

Ammonite  wars,  12,  110,  113,  480. 
Amnon,  127, 129- 
Amos,  399,  491. 

Anointing,  20. 

Arabia  ; its  commerce,  201. 

its  legends,  260,  276. 

its  wisdom,  253. 

Araunah,  89,  148,  226. 

Army,  the,  under  Saul,  21. 

under  David,  101. 

under  Solomon,  211. 

under  the  kings  of  Israel,  296. 

under  the  kings  of  Judah,  481. 

Asa,  420. 

his  reforms,  432. 

Asaph,  105,  470. 

Assyria,  rise  of,  401. 

fall  of,  412. 

Athaliah,  435. 

— — death  of,  439. 


c. 

Cadttis,  90,  582. 

Calvin  quoted,  571. 

Canticles,  the,  265. 

Carchemish,  586. 

Carmel,  332. 

Census  by  David,  146. 

Cherith,  327. 

Chimham,  143,  151,  201. 
Chronicles,  Book  of,  461,  469. 
Coronation,  first  example  of,  438. 
Crucifixion  of  Saul’s  sons,  36. 
Cyrus,  638. 

D. 

Damascus,  378. 

David  ; his  family,  48,  51,  84. 

his  appearance,  53. 

• his  early  history,  58-80. 

his  reign  at  Hebron,  85. 

at  Jerusalem,  88. 

his  empire,  99. 

his  fall,  119. 

his  exile,  131. 

his  death,  155. 

his  tomb,  155. 

his  name,  187. 

his  character,  54,  55,  157. 

his  poetry,  41,  56,  79,  93,  159. 

“ David,  Psalms  of,”  161,  649. 
Deuteronomy,  552. 

“ Dies  Irae,”  origin  of,  556. 

Doeg,  7,  26,  27,  67,  72. 


B. 

Babylon,  first  mention  of,  538. 

rise  of,  586. 

Baruch,  591,  592,  603. 

Barzillai,  35,  139,  143,  201. 

Benjamin,  tribe  of,  43,  44. 

Bethlehem,  its  effect  on  David,  50,  70. 

Chimham’s  caravanserai  at,  201. 

Philistine  garrison  at,  58,  70. 

well  at,  70. 

Brazen  serpent,  616. 


E. 

Earthquake,  401,  485. 

Ecclesiastes,  281. 

Ecclesiasticus,  272. 

Eclipse,  401,  403,  562. 

Edom,  112,  428,  430,  614. 

Edomites,  wisdom  of,  253,  270. 

Egypt,  200,  229,  424,  519,  533,  640,  601 
Elijah  ; his  character  and  appearance 
321-327,  363. 

his  name,  321,  337. 

his  mission,  341,  417. 


INDEX. 


654 


Elijah,  at  Cheritli,  328. 

Zarepliath,  328. 

Carmel,  332,  353. 

Iloreb,  340,  502. 

Jezreel,  346. 

his  Translation,  356. 

Elisha  ; his  call,  364. 

■ his  partinj?  with  Elijah,  356. 

foreign  relations,  382. 

his  character,  360-364. 

End  or,  witch  of,  31. 

Ephes-danmiiin,  battle  of,  59. 

Ephod,  the,  20,  463. 

Esarhaddon,  invasion  of,  646. 
Evil-merodach,  596. 

Ezekiel,  622,  633. 

prophecies  of  Gog  and  Magog, 

559. 


F. 

AST,  the  first,  483. 

for  Gedaliah’s  murder,  619. 

for  siege  of  Jerusalem,  605. 

“Fasti  llellenici,”  quoted,  638. 
Fletcher  of  Madeley,  393. 


G. 

Gau,  70,  71,  105,  147. 

Gath,  court  of,  68,  77. 
Gedaliah,  566,  616. 

murdered,  618. 

Gehazi,  365,  383. 

Gehenna,  431. 

Gibeah,  11. 

Gibeon,  94,  192,  194. 
Gibeonites,  slaughter  of,  26. 

revenge  of,  36. 

Gilboa,  battle  of,  30. 

Goliath,  59. 


H. 

Habakkuk,  547-550. 
Hazael,  383,  446. 

Hebron,  85,  1-SO. 

Hegel  quoted,  186. 
Hezekiah,  510. 

his  conversion,  512. 

his  policy,  522,  525 

High  Places,  515. 

Hillel,  510. 

Hiram,  202. 

Hosea,  409. 

Hoshea,  king,  407. 

Uozai,  the  seer,  643,  546. 


I. 

I DDO,  the  seer,  809. 

Idolatry  at  Jerusalem,  277,  431,  506 

W2. 

Isaiah,  494. 

his  call,  498. 

his  mission,  502. 

Ins  predictions  508,  524,  628,  631. 

his  grief,  524. 

second  portion  of,  637-643,  646. 

Ishbosheth,  reign  of,  36. 


J. 

Jabesii-Gilead,  12,  34,  38. 

Jehoahaz,  582. 

Jehoiachin,  594. 

Jehoiada,  487. 

his  revolution,  437. 

death,  443. 

Jehoiakim,  593. 

Jehonadab,  371. 

Jehoshaphat  ; his  wars,  427. 

his  reforms,  433. 

Jehosheba,  436. 

Jehu  ; his  character,  374. 

his  first  appearance,  346. 

his  revolution,  366-374. 

Jeremiah  ; his  family,  570. 

character,  575. 

doctrines,  572,  578. 

lamentations  over  Jerusalem,  618 

over  Josiah,  561. 

over  Israel,  411. 

policy,  585,  587,  600. 

death,  620. 

subsequent  fame,  621. 

Jericho  rebuilt,  316. 

Jeroboam  II.,  386. 

Jerusalem,  capture  of,  88. 

consecration  of,  89. 

name  of,  214. 

enlargement,  214. 

importance,  421. 

evil  genius,  431. 

fall,  567,  611. 

Jesus,  son  of  Sirach,  272. 

“Jew,”  meaning  of,  422. 

Jezebel;  character,  317,  345. 

death,  370. 

Jezreel,  316,  332,  368,  375. 

Joab,  88,  102,  112,  140,  145,  146. 

his  death,  192. 

Joash,  king  of  Judah,  438. 

reign,  440 

reforms,  441.  ' • 

death,  446. 

Joash,  king  of  Samaria,  385 
Job,  book  of,  270. 


INDEX. 


656 


Toel,  483,  490. 

fonah  ; tradition  of  his  birth,  331. 

prophecy,  387. 

——history,  388-395. 

Jonathan,  15,  19,  29,  42,  63,  66. 
Josiah,  550-562. 

Jotham,  481 
Judah,  history  of,  421. 


K. 

Kobolam,  King,  403. 


L. 

Liaw,  discovery  of,  in  Josiah’s  reign, 
551. 

Lemuel,  king,  254. 

Levites,  450,  460,  466. 

Locusts,  plague  of,  482. 

Lokman,  106. 


M. 

IVXaacah,  Queen,  432. 

Mahanaim,  35,  139. 

Mephibosheth,  35,  38,  133,  143. 
“Messiah,”  the  name  as  applied  to 
Saul,  20. 

— to  David,  177. 

the  idea  as  suggested  by  David, 

108. 

by  Solomon,  208,  256. 

by  the  Psalter,  177. 

by  Isaiah,  508. 

by  Jeremiah,  580. 

applied  to  Cyrus,  639. 

suffering,  547. 

Micah,  492,  506,  512. 

Micaiah,  349. 

Michal,  28,  35,  63,  94. 

Michmash,  battle  of,  17. 

Moab  wars,  109,  387,  429. 


N. 

Naaman,  382. 

Nabal,  75,  77. 

Naboth,  344. 

Nahum,  412. 

Nathan,  105,  122,  190. 
Necho,  invasion  of,  560. 
Nineveh,  390,  413. 
Nobles  of  Judah,  488. 


O. 

Omri,  314. 

Ophir,  204,  206. 


P. 

Parables,  273. 

Passover,  Hezekiah’s,  514. 

Josiah’s,  553. 

Paul,  St.,  44,  571. 

Pekah,  405. 

Persecution  under  Ahab,  320. 

under  Manasseh,  643. 

Persia,  639,  640. 

Pharaoh-Necho,  560. 

Philistines,  their  character,  60. 

hold  on  the  country,  13. 

war  with  Saul,  13,  59. 

with  David,  70,  108. 

with  Uzziah,  480. 

at  fall  of  Jerusalem,  613. 

Polygamy,  275. 

Polytheism,  277. 

Priesthood,  the  name,  107,  448. 

its  early  characteristics,  449-45S 

its  extension  under  David,  106 

its  functions,  453. 

ceremonial,  459,  460. 

educational,  461-463. 

its  history,  464. 

its  importance,  473,  487. 

Princes,  party  of,  565,  568. 

Prophets,  under  Saul,  23. 

under  David,  105. 

under  Solomon,  279. 

of  Israel,  396-401,408-412. 

of  Judah,  489,  548. 

Proverbs,  Book  of,  267,  510. 

teaclung  by,  268,  273. 

Psalter,  origin  of,  159. 

defects,  169. 

excellences,  164,  165,  170,  178 

Messianic  character,  176. 

universal  use,  163. 

Psalm  80th,  408. 


Q. 

Queen  Mother,  432,  695. 


R. 

Pabbath-Ammon,  113. 
Racine  quoted,  370,  375,  444. 
Ramoth-Gilead,  348,  379. 
Rechabites,  371,  576,  587. 
Rehoboam,  301,  424,  432. 


656 


INDEX 


Riblah,  682. 

Riddles  of  Solomon,  260. 
Rizpah,  35,  37. 

Russia,  443,  660. 


Solomon  ; his  death,  279 

his  riddles,  260. 

Song  of  Solomon,  219,  265,  276,  298. 
Syrian  wars,  110,  198,  378,  608. 


S. 

Sacrifice  of  Jonathan,  19. 

of  the  seven  sons  of  Saul,  36. 

by  Solomon,  243. 

on  Carmel,  336. 

Sacrificial  System,  243,  248,  454,  470, 
474. 

Salvian,  588. 

Samaria,  foundation  of,  316. 

temple  of,  319,  373. 

siege,  381. 

moral  shite,  397. 

fall,  407. 

Samaritan  sect,  415,  456,  473. 

Saul,  pedigree  and  family  of,  4,  6. 

appearance,  7,  10. 

character,  19-26,  39. 

his  relations  to  David,  27. 

to  Jonathan,  29. 

his  death,  33. 

Scribes,  rise  of,  593. 

Scythian  invasion,  557. 

Sennacherib,  invasion  of,  517. 

fall,  529. 

Serpent,  brazen,  237,  239,  516. 

Sheba,  revolt  of,  144. 

queen  of,  259. 

Shebna,  524. 

Shishak,  424. 

Solomon;  his  birth,  115,  126. 

his  name,  187. 

his  youth,  188. 

his  accession,  190. 

his  coronation,  190. 

his  empire,  197. 

his  buildings,  214-220. 

his  temple,  225. 

his  wisdom,  254-269. 

his  decline,  274. 

— - his  polytheism,  277 


Tabernacle,  the,  94,  191,  237. 
Tamar,  daughter  of  David,  128. 
Tamar,  daughter  of  Absalom,  128. 
Temple  of  Solomon ; its  building,  227. 

its  appearance,  228-235. 

its  dedication,  236. 

its  peculiarities,  246. 

Tobit,  308. 413. 

Tyre,  202,  632. 


U. 

XJlphilas,  his  version,  377. 
Urijah,  the  Priest,  507. 
Urijah,  the  Prophet,  584. 
Uzziah,  480,  486. 


W. 

I8DOM  of  the  Edomites,  253,  270. 

Solomon’s,  252. 

“ Wisdom  of  Solomon,”  Book  of,  271, 
651. 

Witch  of  Endor,  31. 

Women,  Hebrew,  432,  488. 


Z. 

Zachariah,  the  king,  403. 
Zarephath,  widow  of,  328. 

Zechariah,  the  Prophet,  405,  492,  648 
Zechariah,  the  priest,  444. 

Zedekiah,  king,  598. 

Zephaniah,  549,  556. 

Zerah,  the  Ethiopian,  426. 


THE  END 


SPA 


(Sift  uf 


I 


